WRIT Large (volume 7)

WRITL ARGE

2018

Š UNIVERSITY OF DENVER WRITING PROGRAM

WRIT Large is published by the University Writing Program at the University of Denver

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the University Writing Program at the University of Denver.

www.du.edu/writing writing@du.edu 303.871.7448 2150 E. Evans Ave., Denver, CO 80208

2 AN INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME 7

Student Editors 3

I AM MU: A nalyzing

the

Peaches Aragon

Benefits

of

A lternative E ducation M odels

8 THE CROWN OF THE ARCTIC

Dominic Nelson 16

A Response to Nelson:

MY GRANDFATHER’S NOSE: Lessons Resistance

in the

from

Gwich’in I ndigenous

A rctic National Wildlife Refuge

Kengo Nagaoka (published in WRIT Large vol. 5) 25

SOUVENIR

Alice Major 38

BREAKING THE GLASS: G raduation Patterns O ver Time

U niversity

of

D enver

Danielle Trujillo 47

“AS HE LAY DYING”

52

A RELATIVISTIC APPROACH TO HYPERREALITY IN

Max Rosenblatt

CONTEMPORARY ART

59

Spotlight on Student Editors

59

Call for Submissions for Volume 8 (2019)

60

Acknowledgments & Credits

Sam Alperin

at the

W R I T L A R G E 2 0 18

Contents

VOL. 7

An Introduction to Volume 7 The University of Denver’s mission of fostering creative and critical thinking in scholarship relies on interdisciplinary inquiry and curiosity. Students contribute to the world around them by constantly asking questions and pursuing answers through thoughtful research. The kind of impactful studies that challenge the status quo and change the way people see the world around them exist here, within the work of the contributing authors to the 2018 edition of WRIT Large. Each author addresses, with witty critique, the idea of the idiom “writ large” by complicating that which seems obvious or widely accepted. As such, this year’s writers push their readers to reexamine their perspective and ask if they are accepting simple and convenient face values or if they are willing to look closer.

Education provides inspiration for two of our writers. Peaches Aragon describes the success of mindfulness and attention to individual student growth in alternative education models both in the United States and abroad. Danielle Trujillo performs an introspective study into the differences between men and women graduating from the University of Denver with Latin honors over time as an indication of larger trends of gender differences in higher education.

Other writers reassess their sense of place. Alice Major’s piece weaves her hometown’s landscapes of the past and present, of histories of loss and childhood memories, together in an exploration of Colorado’s mining industry. Max Rosenblatt’s essay also takes strolls through a small, American town when his search for authenticity amid football fans and store facades in Faulkner’s hometown leads him to surprising encounters. Sam Alperin directs the discussion of time and space into the theoretical realm as he applies the concept of multiple perceptions of reality to film and photography.

This volume also represents a need for awareness and activism in current socio-political issues. Both Dominic Nelson and Kengo Nagaoka address the implications of oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in their essays, yet they take distinct approaches. Nelson analyzes the reality of the claims used to support drilling in terms of political, economic, and environmental impacts while Nagaoka employs personal stories from his time spent with the Gwich’in to illustrate the effects that oil drilling has on Indigenous peoples’ ways of life and Alaskan wildlife.

Passion for and personal investment in knowledge resonate throughout this collection, demonstrating the power of finding one’s voice through writing. These writers expertly navigate between storytelling and research. We are eager to share this year’s edition of WRIT Large so that, in this prose, you too may experience the spark of curiosity that fuels not only these pieces but students’ work across campus.

— Tamarra Nelson, Rachel Reidenbaugh, Max Rosenblatt, and Maggie Sava Student Editors, WRIT Large Volume 7 2

WRIT LARGE: 2018

I Am Mu: ANALYZING THE BENEFITS OF ALTERNATIVE EDUCATION MODELS by

Peaches Aragon

WRIT 1633 Advanced Writing & Research | Professor Heather Martin

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE THE TEA HOUSE?” I turn away from a colorful mural depicting Tibetan prayer flags waving lightly in the wind to face an older man, smiling, with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. I have just finished my interview, and I’m attending a class soon. But looking at his open face, I cannot help but nod my head.

“Just Mike,” he answers, when I ask him his name. We walk toward a tiny building, where he advises me to take off my shoes before we crawl through a small door. Inside, we kneel on bamboo mats, the sweet aroma of incense fills the air, and Mike explains with enthusiasm the Japanese character on the wall and the traditional Japanese tea ceremony. Naropa University, a university founded on contemplative education, is unlike any educational campus I have ever visited—the classes, people, and culture stand in striking contrast to the usual college campus. Tea rooms, classroom meditation, and art fill every space the eye can see: it sounds like a school from a child’s dream, yet it is a real university in beautiful Boulder, Colorado. The contemplative education system is just one of many new alternative education models popping up all over the world. These models demonstrate success in academics, but they also correlate to happier students and communities. Learning from these innovative systems, education must start valuing the wellbeing and development VOLUME 7

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Learning from these innovative systems, education must start valuing the wellbeing and development of students as individuals if they want them to contribute to creating a healthier, smarter society.

of students as individuals if they want them to contribute to creating a healthier, smarter society.

Alternative education models are not new; however, they are being revolutionized and adapted across the world. The Waldorf educational system was introduced in 1919 by Rudolf Steiner with the goal of developing insight into determining the appropriate model of education for each individual student (Selg). The Denver Waldorf School continues to place that emphasis on development. Brie Kaiser, Admissions Director of the Denver Waldorf School, notes that the curriculum helps contribute to the children’s growth by meeting each student developmentally and designing curriculum around that. According to the Waldorf model, education is an art that can heal students and equip them to succeed in their individual life journeys (Selg). Kaiser believes that one advantage the Denver Waldorf education offers is “the freedom to be who you are without judgment; it is just part of the culture constructed here.” When I walk into the kindergarten class at the Denver Waldorf School during what Kaiser calls “intentional play time,” I witness a future society of individual thinkers and doers.

Similarly, Naropa’s contemplative education system places a strong emphasis on the individual and on using education as a tool for student transformation. Charlotte Rotterdam, the director

(left) © Rawpixel.com (right) © Wavebreakmedia

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of the Center of the Advancement of Contemplative Education and a professor of contemplative learning, describes contemplative learning as a three-step process. The first step, where traditional education begins and ends, is hearing: students are given information, and they regurgitate it. The next step is contemplation. As Rotterdam describes it, this step asks students, “How do I see this information?” Contemplation values student experiences and encourages learners to view the broader world as a laboratory for study and experimentation. The third step is transformation, and it is focused on the belief that true learning should transform the individual. Rotterdam describes transformation as a process: “There’s a deep curiosity that is awakened for every moment in life. Every moment in life can be a deep learning experience.” Naropa focuses on the unbound, continuous growth of every student, the ability to learn from every moment and experience even when—or especially when—students are outside of the classroom.

Alternative education models are making waves across societies not just for their unorthodox views, but also for their success. Every year, Finland competes globally for top ranking in education. In fact, they rank as third in literacy, sixth in mathematics, and second in science on PISA (The Programme for International Student Assessment), with only some countries in Asia outperforming them (Nieme). Perhaps counter-intuitively, the Finnish system calls for less homework, less lesson time, and fewer evaluations (among other innovations).

The Bush administration introduced its own education reform, No Child Left Behind (NCLB), in the US; however, a much different result occurred with the increase of the implementation of highstakes tests for many students—especially minority students. National Assessment of Educational

© duluoz cats (Flickr.com)

Progress (NAEP) scores indicated that there was a 31-point Black-White achievement gap in reading a year after NCLB was implemented (Thompson).

The outcome was quite the opposite of the progress promised by NCLB when the government and schools implemented these tests and benchmarks.

Not only did the test reveal an increased failure rate among minorities, but teacher evaluations were now linked to student performance on tests. The fear teachers now have of testing scores contributing to their evaluations has led to an education system in America that is no longer preparing students for success and interest in academics.

Additionally, these benchmarks and standards lead to a static view of learning. Rotterdam believes that when knowledge is considered alive and continually growing, “learning becomes more fun. It becomes a pathway of deep curiosity.” In the class I was sent to observe, I became as much a member of the class as the students. We began the class with meditation to center ourselves and bring focus to what we were feeling in that moment. Meditation has been proven time and again to help “at-risk” students, but in a case study in the Education Psychology Review, meditation also showed a 61% effect on students’ well being, social competence, and academics (Walters). In one controlled study, mindfulness meditation showed a significant improvement on working memory capacity (WMC), which is associated with higher level cognitive function (Quach). After our meditation, I joined in the small discussions taking place between groups of two students; the look of respect and curiosity when one was speaking is something I see missing in many of my own classroom discussions at the University of Denver. After ten minutes of discussion, I joined my group on a walk to contemplate the questions we, the students, had created while

we picked apart the assigned readings. As I stepped into the humid dome of the greenhouse, the smell of fresh green plants overwhelmed me, and the life around us brought life into our conversation—into our learning.

Contemplative education focuses on building on previous knowledge to increase empathy for humanity and to support individual growth through mindfulness (Mahani).

To argue further for these alternative education models that successfully innovate academics and learning, they have also shown a correlation with a healthier, happier society. The statistics showing increased happiness levels in society and decreased stress levels in students is something only seen when these revolutionary alternative education systems are introduced. In an index of 90% of the world’s population, Finland—a country that revolutionized its entire education system—is consistently ranked as one of the happiest countries (Legatum Institute’s Prosperity Index). Education systems that are bringing the focus back to the individual student and their growth are creating citizens who will contribute more effectively to society. Contemplative education focuses on building on previous knowledge to increase empathy for humanity and to support individual growth through mindfulness (Mahani). Rotterdam described mindfulness as a quality of focus that brings awareness to something.

As to how it can contribute to a more compassionate society, Rotterdam stated it beautifully: “What happens when I become more present? Our heart VOLUME 7

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© Lisitskiyfoto (Shutterstock)

opens and natural kindness emerges…You can actually see suffering and feel its effect on yourself and then analyze your experiences to see what you can offer the situation.” Naropa’s university motto is “Transform yourself. Transform the world.”

When an education system’s curriculum is focused on creating compassionate individuals and assisting them in finding their purpose, students can create an environment of driven, healthy people.

Building an innovative society filled with high-functioning, well-informed individuals begins with education. Walk into a school anytime, anywhere in the world, and you’re walking among future doctors, teachers, builders, politicians, entrepreneurs: you are walking among the future of society. The systematic approach to education

in America is hurting our students and limiting our society now more than ever. Policy makers and schools must adopt a model of alternative education or risk limiting the progress of the country as a whole. In the teahouse at Naropa, I sat for an hour on my knees, I spoke Japanese words that had been spoken for generations at tea ceremonies, and I was able to become a part of a true “beyond the classroom” learning experience. The Japanese character on the wall of the teahouse at Naropa was Mu, which translates to “nothing; not; empty.” However, as my tea instructor explained the symbol, “it is nothingness, with the possibility of everything.”

Alternative educational models view students in the same way, and in doing so they foster their potential to grow, learn, and act with purpose.

WORKS CITED Mahani, Sepideh. “Promoting Mindfulness Through Contemplative Education.” Journal of International Education Research, vol 8, no. 3, 2012, pp. 215–222. Print.

Niemi, Hannele, et al. Miracle of Education: The Principles and Practices of Teaching and Learning in Finnish Schools. Sense Publishers, 2012. Print.

Selg, Peter, and Margot M. Saar. The Essence of Waldorf Education. Steiner Books, 2010. Print.

Thompson, Gail L., and Tawannah G. Allen. “Four Effects of the High-Stakes Testing Movement on African American K-12 Students.” Journal of Negro Education, vol. 81, no. 3, 2012, pp. 218–227. Web.

Waters, Lea, et al. “Contemplative Education: A Systematic, Evidence-Based Review of the Effect of Meditation Interventions in Schools.” Educational Psychology Review, vol. 27, no. 1, 2015, pp. 103–134. Web.

Quach, Dianna, et al. “A Randomized Controlled Trial Examining the Effect of Mindfulness Meditation on Working Memory Capacity in Adolescents.” Journal of Adolescent Health, vol. 58, no. 5, 2016, pp. 489–496. Print.

Opening image on page 3 © Ed J (Flickr.com)

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WRIT LARGE: 2018

Alana “Peaches” Aragon is a second-year student pursuing a double major in international business and psychology, with a minor in Spanish. Originally from Albuquerque, New Mexico, she currently lives in Denver while she’s finishing her undergrad. When she’s not in Denver, she enjoys traveling to other countries and pursuing a first-hand knowledge of other cultures.

While she doesn’t study English or writing in school, she loves to read and write primarily fiction. However, she also enjoys working in other areas such as poetry, travel blogging, and more recently research.

image provided by author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Receiving AP credit in high school, I had the ability to go into an advanced first-year rhetoric class, and I chose one with a focus on education. After we discussed issue after issue in the American education system, I realized that it was not one part that is failing, but the entire way America has been looking at education that is flawed. When our class investigated the success of countries or private schools that had completely revolutionized their education system—as Finland, one of the world leaders in education, did—there were distinct advancements in academic success, mental health, overall happiness, and many other areas. I focused my research on this thought: revolutionizing an education system that has remained the same since the Industrial Age. America is proud of its forward thinking mindset, yet it keeps the same antiquated view on how students can learn, are taught, and get tested despite the evidence that this method is failing.

My piece, “I Am Mu,” explores “alternative” systems and the benefits of approaching education with the goal of ensuring that students are able to think critically and apply what they’re being taught in a world that does not and cannot remain static. It combines peer-reviewed sources, interviews, and field research for a piece that not only highlights how the traditional education system is limited but pushes its audience to contemplate how we can transform using these models.

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by

Dominic Nelson

ASEM (Communication Studies) Environmental Controversies | Professor Christina Foust

INTRODUCTION THE DEBATE ABOUT WHETHER TO OPEN THE ARCTIC National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) to oil drilling and resource exploration exists within a war of ideas. Battles over ANWR are waged through claims rooted in ideologies so distinct that no side can reach across the aisle and legitimately contend with the opposition’s argument. Furthermore, those against drilling routinely defend their platform with aesthetic and emotional tropes, while those in favor counter such attacks with more rational arguments about national defense and economic security. This dichotomy favors the latter side, who consistently bat away emotional claims as idealistic and meaningless in the face of dire security concerns. Indeed, when the indigenous Alaskan Gwich’in argue that ANWR is a “sacred area […] that we have always been told to protect by our elders,” oil lobbyists and conservative politicians, such as Republican Frank Murkowski, reject this appeal by pointing out that, without ANWR, “this nation does not have an energy policy” (“The Refuge”).

This paper contends that arguments in favor of opening ANWR to oil drilling are logically unsound and alarmingly dishonest and, thus, it advocates closing ANWR to all oil drilling and exploration.

The analysis will focus on four key points. First, though claims that drilling in ANWR will promote national security by decreasing 8

WRIT LARGE: 2018

to former President George W. Bush, the US could reduce its dependence on foreign oil by up to 10 billion barrels (“Bush Says”). Drilling proponents claim this amount could replace oil imports from Saudi Arabia or Venezuela, which would give the US a greater stake in its own energy security and would leave it less beholden to these regimes.

Despite the surface-level appeal of this argument, the evidence is intentionally misleading.

Though estimates that ANWR could produce 1 million barrels of oil a day sound substantial, this amount is, in fact, an extremely small percentage of US consumption—only 4% as of 2005, when the US imported roughly half of all oil used domestically (Klare). Given that the US imports THE NATIONAL SECURITY MYTH approximately 60% of oil from foreign sources, a Perhaps the most widely-espoused defense of oil number only expected to grow in the near future, drilling in ANWR is that it would increase US ANWR’s ability to seriously decrease America’s national security by weaning the US off its current foreign oil dependence is little more than wishful foreign oil dependence. The quantitative data sup- thinking. It is also worth noting the exact amount porting this argument is seemingly compelling. As of oil reserves beneath ANWR is contested among of 2012, the US imports more than 60% of its oil geological experts, anywhere between 5.7 and 16.0 used for domestic consumption (Flintoff). Not only billion barrels (United States Geological Survey). does this dependence leave the US relatively inse- In addition, US interests in oil-exporting countries cure in its ability to guarantee oil supplies will make are based on more than reliance on foreign oil. For it to American ports; it also constrains US foreign example, even if ANWR provided the magic bulpolicy and ties the nation to otherwise unsavory or let to make the US completely energy independent, unstable regimes. One only needs to look as far as the US would still rely heavily on the Saudi royal Venezuela, where the autocratic President Nicolas family to combat terrorism and provide stability in Maduro has repeatedly called for action against US the Arab world (Little). Ultimately, oil drilling in imperialism, or Saudi Arabia, where the despotic ANWR is a high-risk, low-yield experiment with House of Saud continually uses American-made minimal effects on actual US national security. armaments to pummel civilian populations in their This is not to say concerns about US depen“war” in Yemen. These two nations constitute 14% dence on foreign oil are without merit, for indeed of total US oil imports (Flintoff). ANWR is the the opposite is true. The US expends astounding solution to this dilemma, according to those in amounts of American blood and treasure for the favor of opening the refuge to oil drilling. By open- direct purpose of keeping oil partners satisfied, ing just 0.01% of the refuge to drilling, according their product flowing without hindrance. But

© BILD LLC

American dependence on foreign oil are attractive, the case is far more complicated. I review evidence showing how the ability of ANWR’s reserves to solve the problem of energy independence is minimal. Second, I discuss how pronouncements that drilling in ANWR will create jobs both within and outside Alaska are overblown and regressive.

Third, I explain how assertions that drilling in ANWR would have little to no environmental or ecological consequences are, at best, scientific halftruths and, at worst, blatant lies. Finally, I argue that a commitment to protect ANWR sets a powerful example of defending national treasures over short-term profit.

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drilling in ANWR is not the solution; it is a hasty reaction benefitting private oil producers who equate their wealth with that of the nation. For an industry in which the six biggest companies posted quarterly profits of 51.5 billion dollars, it is unsurprising they wish to keep this false equivalence unanalyzed (Porretto). If the US wants to seriously pursue energy independence, it needs to pursue more proactive strategies such as reconsidering its relationships with international oil partners and investing in renewable energy sources that are both sustainable and economically viable in the long term.

If Alaska seeks to move beyond economic stagnation, serious economic reform is required, and Alaska must change its outdated economic structure. [...] However, if the goal is to revitalize the Alaskan economy, ANWR is not the solution, for Alaska’s economic problems run far deeper. The economic case for drilling in ANWR is little more than the shortsighted interests of a wealthy few masquerading as public service.

JOBS, JOBS, JOBS? Another core tenet proclaimed by those in favor of drilling in ANWR is that it will produce immediate economic benefits on both local and national levels. As of 2017, the unemployment rate in Alaska was 6.7%, nearly 3 full points over the national average (United States, Bureau of Labor Statistics).

This high unemployment rate is a direct result of the structure of the Alaskan economy, which has historically been highly dependent on oil and natural gas exploration. With oil prices at near-record lows, the Alaskan economy was hit especially hard.

Proponents of drilling in ANWR cite the creation of an estimated 100,000 new jobs for Alaskans (ANWR). And, because of this fact, drilling in ANWR is favored by 78% of Alaskans (Sullivan).

Additionally, ANWR is expected to create up to 736,000 new jobs nationwide, including construction, litigation, transportation, and other services needed to support drilling in ANWR (ANWR).

Overall, according to this perspective, oil drilling 10

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in ANWR would create an economic boon unprecedented in American history.

Although the method for determining these high employment figures is suspiciously left out, it can be inferred the best possible scenario for an oilbased economy is assumed. As mentioned above, the estimated oil reserves beneath ANWR are contested, and higher estimates likely inflate the number of jobs created as well. Additionally, because current technology available would require at least a decade to access ANWR’s full oil reserves, many future questions come into play. For example, what will the price of oil be in 2027? The estimates for this figure were made around 2008, when the price of oil was fast approaching $102 per barrel, which created powerful incentive to drill (McMahon).

However, as of 2016, the price of oil was as low as $34 per barrel. This low figure would result in little return on investments, as the high fixed costs associated with drilling in ANWR would easily outweigh the profits to be made (McMahon).

Now let’s pretend that ANWR was opened to drilling in 2008 and, by 2018, oil prices were somewhere around $200 per barrel, generating the most opportunistic employment outcomes possible.

Even here, the victory is only partial, because economies are made up of both producers and consumers. While unemployment would certainly decrease, especially in Alaska, the higher price of oil would necessarily translate into higher prices to be paid for anything made with oil, especially gasoline. In this scenario, any benefits to oil producers are simply translated into higher costs for consumers. Oil producing firms expect “the value from selling the oil will outweigh the costs,” and if prices remain high, “oil consumers would not benefit […] but stockholders” certainly would (Krupnick).

In addition to the precarious nature of markets, we also need to consider potential shifts in the means of production. We are living in an era where renewables such as wind and solar energy may someday replace oil as the lifeblood of the world economy. Within ten years, the world economy could leave oil production to the dustbin of history.

While this is certainly a bold prediction, one must not forget how quickly wood as an energy source was replaced by hydro-power, and hydro-power by coal, and coal by oil. A decade is a long time, and if the US finds itself investing too heavily in outdated energy sources, the economic ramifications

© Bureau of Land Management Alaska

could be severe. It is epochal miscalculations such as these that bring civilizations to their knees.

Again, this is not to downplay the hardships of the Alaskan economy or the plight of the economically disadvantaged in the state. The fact that 78% of Alaskans want to see ANWR transformed into a financial asset for the state is truly the most compelling evidence for those in favor of drilling.

But, we also cannot forget that ANWR was set aside as federally-protected wilderness due to the direct grassroots actions of the Alaskan people in the 20th century, and its protection helps to preserve the spiritual wellbeing of native Alaskan like the Gwich’in. Also, if Alaska history illustrates anything, it’s that oil-based economies are detrimental to economic development. If Alaska seeks to move beyond economic stagnation, serious economic reform is required, and Alaska must change its outdated economic structure. The largest industries in Alaska are oil and gas, tourism, and fishing.

This is essentially the same industry distribution of Croatia, a former Soviet republic. Additionally, the high school dropout rate in Alaska is 7%, compared with the 3% national average (“Public High School”). Greater reform is clearly needed.

However, if the goal is to revitalize the Alaskan economy, ANWR is not the solution, for Alaska’s economic problems run far deeper. The economic case for drilling in ANWR is little more than the shortsighted interests of a wealthy few masquerading as public service.

to the local ecology and environment. As proof for this claim, proponents of drilling repeatedly mention the Porcupine Caribou population. For example, after more than 30 years of drilling for oil in areas 80 miles west of ANWR, they argue, there have been no observable detrimental effects on the local Porcupine Caribou populations, and, in fact, the caribou population has increased fivefold (Hostetter).

This argument is not just illogical but openly deceptive. First, the vibrations of the seismic analysis required to locate oil reserves, the drilling for extraction, and the vehicles needed to transport material absolutely do adversely affect local wildlife populations. The lack of disturbances to wildlife elsewhere on the North Slope is misleading because it takes place 80 miles away, a distance too far to have any real effect on animal behavior.

However, caribou living within two miles of drilling activity have been shown to alter their behavior (Kotchen and Burger). Based on this information, “development in ANWR is predicted to displace the Porcupine Herd by thirty miles and reduce calf survival by 8.2%”, a terrifying prospect given that only “a 4.6% reduction in calf survival would be expected to halt population growth” (Kotchen and Burger).

With regards to other wildlife living in ANWR, there is no definitive proof oil drilling has adverse effects on their behavior. Musk oxen are thought to be more sensitive to vibrations, as opposed to polar bears, who show little variation in behavior when ENVIRONMENTAL LIES exposed. However, to deduce that oil exploration The third fallacy championed by those in favor of will have no adverse effect on local wildlife amounts opening ANWR is that drilling poses no threat to little more than nonsense. The appropriate and VOLUME 7

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© U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Headquarters

moral response to this unknown factor is to proceed with complete caution because an erroneous prediction could result in the annihilation of an entire ecosystem already threatened by the growing dangers of climate change in the Arctic.

Indigenous Alaskans could also face displacement and an extinction of their traditional way of life if anything disturbs the Porcupine Caribou in ANWR. The Gwich’in rely on the caribou for food, as well as for clothing and shelter. Should the caribou be disturbed by drilling or pollution, they will be forced into areas either abundant with predators or lacking in food. Both of these options would threaten the survival of the caribou population and, consequently, the wellbeing of the Gwich’in (“Alaska Natives”). Thus, the downplaying of the environmental impacts of drilling is nothing more than an outright lie.

A GLOBAL LEADER AND NATIONAL PRIDE In 1630, John Winthrop proclaimed, “We shall be as a city upon a hill, the eyes of all people are upon us.” He was speaking of the exceptional nature of the land that would soon become the United States

This debate has only served to benefit those who wrap their arguments up in evidence regarding national welfare and economic prosperity.

Deconstructing such claims, however, exposes them for what they truly are: regressive private interests concealed as public interests.

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of America. However, recent setbacks in US policy toward environmental issues, including withdrawing from the Paris Agreement, have cast serious doubts that the US can remain a leader in the face of global climate change. The US could preserve its leadership role by defending ANWR against private financial interests. By 2040, the Arctic is predicted to be ice free due to rampant climate change caused by greenhouse gases (“The Arctic”).

By protecting ANWR, the US could set a strong precedent for fighting the reality of climate change.

Additionally, ANWR should be protected as a source of national pride for all Americans. For years, the Sierra Club has been sponsoring two-week-long treks through ANWR for veterans suffering from traumatic brain injuries (TBIs), post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and other combat illnesses.

For veterans who take part in this opportunity, the prolonged time among nature provides a unique opportunity to foster “mental and physical health” and “emotional resiliency” (“Military Outdoors”).

Upon completing the trek, one veteran realized that “we only have one home and we really need to protect it” (“Veterans”). Others offered even more stunning revelations, such as one individual who admitted that he “would have never survived the transition home,” encouraging him to reach out to other veterans and push them to “protect the lands that are helping to save us” (“Veterans”). Moreover, the majesty of ANWR fills Americans with a sense of national pride, and its inspiring role in rehabilitating US combat veterans serves as a distinct beacon for US patriotism.

CONCLUSION For far too long, the debate over drilling in ANWR has been characterized by two distinct sides with distinct appeals and arguments. The

Š Alaska Region U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

emotionally-charged claims of those opposed to drilling in ANWR are routinely buried beneath the quantitative evidence and seemingly logical reasoning from the other side. However, only in directly addressing the claims and evidence put forth by those in favor of drilling can we effectively expose the weaknesses in their arguments, thereby protecting ANWR from those who seek to destroy it. This paper illustrates how this debate has only served to benefit those who wrap their arguments up in evidence regarding national welfare and economic prosperity. Deconstructing such claims, however, exposes them for what they truly are: regressive private interests concealed as public

interests. In contrast to assertions that opening ANWR to oil drilling would increase national security, the political complexity associated with US dependence on foreign oil ultimately renders ANWR useless in solving this problem. Likewise, promises of economic benefits are as optimistic in their predictions as they are regressive in their actual policies. Furthermore, the evidence used to downplay the environmental effects of drilling is convincing on the surface but, upon deeper inspection, reveals the blatant dishonesty behind this claim. Finally, we should do everything in our power to preserve ANWR to send a message to the rest of the world that America is indeed exceptional.

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© Alaska Region U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

WORKS CITED “Alaska Natives Mount Resistance to Latest ANWR Drilling Legislation.” Cultural Survival, 2017, https://www.culturalsurvival.org/news/alaska-natives-mount-resistance-latest-anwr-drilling-legislation.

“The Arctic as It Is Known Today Is Almost Certainly Gone.” The Economist, 29 April 2017, https://www.economist.com/ news/leaders/21721379-current-trends-arctic-will-be-ice-free-summer-2040-arctic-it-known-today.

Arctic Power. “ANWR Information Brief.” ANWR, 2017, http://www.anwr.org/features/pdfs/employment-facts.pdf.

“Bush Says ANWR Drilling Will Help American People.” YouTube, uploaded by neonmauve, 18 June 2008, https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=bApYO-5B1cM.

Flintoff, Corey. “Where Does America Get Oil? You May Be Surprised.” NPR, 12 Apr. 2012, http://www.npr. org/2012/04/11/150444802/where-does-america-get-oil-you-may-be-surprised.

Klare, Michael T. “Arctic Drilling Is No Energy Answer.” Los Angeles Times, 3 April 2005.

Kotchen, Matthew, and Nicholas Burger. “Should We Drill in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge? An Economic Perspective.” National Bureau of Economic Research, 2007.

Krupnick, Alan J. “Drilling for Oil in the Arctic: Considering Economic and Social Costs and Benefits.” Resources

for the Future, 2 June 2011, http://www.rff.org/blog/2011/drilling-oil-arctic-considering-economic-and-social-costs-and-benefits. Accessed 22 May 2017.

Little, Douglas. American Orientalism: The United States and the Middle East since 1945. U of North Carolina P, 2008.

McMahon, Tim. “Historical Oil Prices.” InflationData.com, 1 May 2015, https://inflationdata.com/Inflation/Inflation_ Rate/Historical_Oil_Prices_Chart.asp.

“Military Outdoors.” Sierra Club Outdoors, 11 Nov. 2016, https://content.sierraclub.org/outings/military.

Porretto, John. “Big Oil’s Most Profitable Quarter Ever: $51.5 Billion.” ABC News, n.d., http://abcnews.go.com/Business/ story?id=5503955.

“Public High School Dropout Rates by State.” Ballotpedia, n.d., https://ballotpedia.org/Public_high_school_dropout_rates_ by_state.

“The Refuge.” YouTube, uploaded by Patagonia, 28 Nov. 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=178&v= A4DH5cK37Y8.

Sullivan, Dan. “Majority of Alaskans Agree with Drilling in ANWR.” US News & World Report, 3 Nov. 2011, https://www. usnews.com/debate-club/is-it-time-to-drill-in-the-arctic-refuge/majority-of-alaskans-agree-with-drilling-in-anwr.

United States, Bureau of Labor Statistics. Labor Force Statistics from the Current Population Survey. https://www.bls.gov/.

United States, Geological Survey. Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, 1002 Area, Petroleum Assessment, 1998, Including Economic Analysis. 29 Nov. 2016, https://pubs.usgs.gov/fs/fs-0028-01/fs-0028-01.htm.

“Veterans in the Arctic Refuge.” Vimeo, uploaded by We Are the Arctic, 2016, https://vimeo.com/182916282.

Winthrop, John. “Massachusetts Bay — ‘The City Upon a Hill.’” Ushistory.org, 2017, http://www.ushistory.org/us/3c.asp.

Opening image on page 8 © Mike Clime

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From Los Angeles, California, Dominic graduated from the University of Denver in June 2017. Due to a strong desire to understand the political forces that drive international affairs, Dominic pursued a double major in international studies and economics while at DU. Dominic has also studied Arabic at the University of Jordan in Amman. He is currently interning as a research assistant at the Middle East Institute in Washington, DC.

image provided by author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Soon after joining Dr. Christina Foust’s Environmental Controversies class, I came to believe that the discourse surrounding environmental activism was too heavily grounded in emotional and aesthetic tropes. While backing up your argument with pleas from indigenous cultures and beautiful visualizations of pristine wilderness is enormously helpful in bringing attention to the environmental controversy at hand, it is practically useless in enhancing an argument past this initial point. What is further needed is an attempt to understand the economics and politics at play and build on this understanding to logically explain why something is worth protecting.

For this reason, I chose to write about the battle over oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). Those seeking to protect ANWR from oil exploration often fall victim to employing purely aesthetic arguments, such as appeals to ANWR’s indigenous tribes and the supreme beauty of its natural wilderness.

These arguments are routinely shot down by proponents of drilling, who couch their arguments in terms of national security and economics, a far more convincing approach that reaches a wider audience. That being said, I chose to argue against drilling in ANWR in a highly strategic fashion: rather than dancing around my opponents’ claims, I sought to address them head on and disprove them with logic and reason.

My essay is written in a language that is uncommon in the realm of environmental activism. However, by using reason and logic to argue for ANWR’s defense, I hope this piece can be weapon for its protection.

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My Grandfather’s Nose:

LESSONS FROM GWICH’IN INDIGENOUS RESISTENCE IN THE ARCTIC NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE by

Kengo Nagaoka

Author previously published in WRIT Large (volume 5) | Response to Nelson

IT WAS 11pm IN ARCTIC VILLAGE. THE SUN WAS SETTING, washing the tundra and the small wooden cabins dotted across it in a brilliant shade of orange. Time for a trip up memory lane, Evon decided. We packed life jackets, warm clothes, and tanks of gas on a four-wheeler and clambered on as Evon revved the engine. We arrived at the banks of the East Fork Chandalar River just as the sun dipped under the horizon.

The Chandalar is a calm river, as quiet as the village around it and the mountains nearby. It meanders south from the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and through Arctic Village, or Vashraii K’oo, and flows until it meets up with the mighty Yukon. We packed our things onto Evon’s aluminum boat and buckled our life jackets.

“That there’s my grandfather’s nose.” Evon traced the shape of a large granite face on the closest mountain with his finger. The nose seemed to watch over the valley, solemnly and patiently. I glanced up at Evon’s face where a similar, determined gaze sat. With his firm grip, he grasped the steering wheel, skillfully navigating up the Chandalar like it was a vein on his own hand. “I used to come up here all the time when I was young to hunt, fish,” he mused. Twisting and turning up the river, we soon reached a point where I could see no sign of human life, not even a single light in the distance. The sun had set. The diffuse gray light of Arctic twilight permeated the landscape, uniting sky, land, and water.

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The next morning, we made our way back to the tribal hall. The Gwich’in Gathering, and thus the caribou butchering, was in full swing. A fourwheeler with a freshly killed caribou rested by the hall as men and women worked together to prepare the meat for the day’s meal. All around me, kids ran around laughing as Gwich’in grinned from ear to ear in the company of friends and family. Elders sat on the steps to the hall, reminiscing with old friends. Environmentalists and journalists, myself included, looked a little out of place, our bright North Face jackets clashing with the flannels and earthy colors around us. I was wearing a neon red windbreaker that screamed, “I’m not from here!”

I wasn’t here on vacation; I was here for a reason. I was working with my friend Tristan as a fellow with the Fairbanks Climate Action Coalition, a community group in my hometown of Fairbanks, Alaska. Two of the leaders of the Coalition, Enei Begaye and Princess Johnson, invited us to Arctic Village for the Gwich’in Gathering, a weeklong meeting of the Gwich’in Indigenous

peoples of Northern Alaska and Canada, to discuss issues related to oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) and traditional ways of living. We were staying with Enei’s husband and Princess’s brother Evon Peter, former tribal chief of Arctic Village. Princess has been a vocal advocate for protecting the Refuge since the ‘80s and previously served as executive director of the Gwich’in Steering Committee, an organization created by the Gwich’in Nation to protect ANWR. My trip to Arctic Village marked my first time north of the Arctic Circle and my first visit to a Native village.

In Alaska, environmental issues and Indigenous rights are inextricable from each other. Thanks to Evon, Enei, and Princess, I was here to see and learn how.

I went over to watch the caribou being prepared for lunch. Hunters had returned in the night after picking off a few from the herd to feed the Gathering. I watched as a man skillfully separated meat from bone, sinew from meat, and chopped the meat into cubes for the soup. The caribou were the reason any of us were there. Arctic Village itself is situated strategically near the migration path of the Porcupine caribou herd, which has provided Gwich’in villages with their main source of food for millennia. Gwich’in are synonymous with the Porcupine caribou, so much so that they call themselves the “caribou people.” “The body of the caribou is a microcosm of Gwich’in culture,” explains Gwich’in Caribou Anatomy. “When you look inside the animal, when you start butchering and processing, there is a whole new world waiting.

Image provided by author

Suddenly, Evon stood up and pulled out his hunting rifle. He had spotted a moose on the river bank. By the time I realized what was going on, he already had sights on the animal. Noticing the moose was a cow, he let out a deep sigh and sat back down at the wheel. By the time we made it back to the village, it was 2am. We could still hear fiddling coming from the tribal hall as tired dancers trudged to their beds by way of twilight.

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There you will find our stories, our personal names and family names, our ceremonies, our games and toys, and the raw materials for making our traditional tools and clothing.” 1 The Gwich’in use every part of the caribou, from the nose to the hoof.

Even the brain is fermented to make a paste to tan the hide. Those of us new to the butchering process watched in awe. Two women from the Sierra Club helped a man saw off the antlers from the head, as they laughed and took selfies. The man I was watching cracked open a thigh bone and offered me a piece of marrow. It tasted sweet and rich, like butter.

“I’m incredibly proud of our community,” says Princess. “I have so many people I can look up to, who, despite the odds, continue to come from a place of goodness and spirituality.”

I took in the sights and sounds of the Gwich’in Gathering and tried to imagine what it was like to be at the first Gathering in 1988. Alarmed by the threat of oil drilling in ANWR, the entire Gwich’in Nation assembled for the first time in over 100 years at the exact place I was standing. It was an historical event. People flew and boated in from more than a dozen small villages for the first Gwich’in Gathering. This was no simple feat; the ancestral homeland of the Gwich’in covers an area

image provided by author

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roughly the size of Colorado in both Alaska and Northern Canada. Outsiders wanted to drill on the Coastal Plain of the Refuge, a critical ecosystem where the Porcupine caribou travel each year to rear their young. The decision was unanimous. “It was at that Gathering that it became very clear from our elders and chiefs that we absolutely could not allow any oil development in the birthing and calving grounds of the Porcupine caribou herd,” Princess tells me.2 And the Gwich’in Steering Committee’s Human Rights Report doesn’t sugarcoat it. If drilling were allowed, the caribou “harvest, so central and critical to the Gwich’in physical and cultural survival, would cease to provide a reliable means of subsistence or to sustain the way of life that has defined the Gwich’in culture for millennia.” 3 Every two years since 1988, Gwich’in have gathered in solidarity to reaffirm their position against oil development. They have fought through countless attempts by the Republican party to open ANWR to drilling, won multiple court cases, spent weeks upon weeks lobbying representatives in Congress, and seen several high-profile scientific studies prove what they already knew: that development of the Coastal Plain would spell disaster for their way of life. After more than three decades, the fight goes on.

“I’m incredibly proud of our community,” says Princess. “I have so many people I can look up to, who, despite the odds, continue to come from a place of goodness and spirituality. And that was really ingrained in that first Gwich’in Gathering, where chiefs and elders only gave two directives, and that was to stand together united on this issue

image provided by author

and to work in a good way. By sticking to those principles, we have been able to be an example of a powerful grassroots Indigenous-based movement that continues to this day.” 4 At the Gwich’in Gathering, I felt the unity, commitment, and determination of the Gwich’in in the face of powerful outside interests. I heard elders, chiefs, and youth talk about the importance of protecting the Refuge and preserving traditional ways of life. I even heard from Indigenous environmental activists from Ecuador and the Philippines who traveled thousands of miles to share their stories of resistance and stand together with the Gwich’in. I learned more and more about the Coastal Plain, a place the Gwich’in call Izhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit—“The Sacred Place Where All Life Begins”—a place they have been instructed to protect by their ancestors no matter what. It seemed absurd to me that, for more than three decades, politicians 3,200 miles away in Washington, DC, have been fiercely debating the future of this serene land, fighting over a thick black substance deep under the tundra. How could it be justifiable to sacrifice Indigenous life and culture for oil? Was no place sacred enough to save itself from becoming a number in an economist’s spreadsheet?

I learned quickly there was more to the debate than our nation’s hunger for fossil fuels. “I don’t think we can really have a conversation about resource extraction in the state of Alaska without getting into the history of the policies that this government has had in regard to Indigenous people,”

Princess explains.5 Before the Gathering, I saw Princess give a lecture on Alaska Native history.

She told us that her mother was sent to boarding schools and hit for speaking her native language. In my 12 years in the Alaska public education system, this was the first time I had heard in depth about the forced relocation of Alaska Native communities and the boarding school system designed to assimilate young Natives into white culture. I had grown up hearing the settler’s side of the story: the tales of the gold rush and of pioneers struggling to set up civilization in the “last wilderness.” To the settlers, nature was an enemy to be conquered. The reality for Alaska Natives is that their history and traditional knowledge of the land was systematically erased to make way for white settlers’ thirst for profit. This historical trauma manifests today in Alaska Native villages as poverty, drug and alcohol addiction, and some of the highest rates of suicide

It seemed absurd to me that, for more than three decades, politicians 3,200 miles away in Washington, DC, have been fiercely debating the future of this serene land, fighting over a thick black substance deep under the tundra. How could it be justifiable to sacrifice Indigenous life and culture for oil? Was no place sacred enough to save itself from becoming a number in an economist’s spreadsheet?

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and domestic violence in the US. The colonial legacy is not dead. Alaska Native youth continue to face pressure to choose Western culture’s ways of defining success over traditional wisdom. These are all real problems for Arctic Village and many other Alaska Native communities.

The push to drill on the Coastal Plain of ANWR is just another reincarnation of the same attitude that caused so much pain and destruction during Alaska’s early days. Politicians and fossil fuel executives continue to ignore warnings from elders and chiefs and display utter disregard for the livelihood of Indigenous peoples. The discourse If we are to create a world in which we can live sustainably with nature, we must follow Indigenous leadership and place Indigenous knowledge in the center. The Gwich’in have been living and breathing sustainability for millennia. It is beyond time we started listening.

surrounding ANWR from conservative Americans is alarming. In 2008, talk show host Glenn Beck said on air, “And when all the cute caribou leave for the winter, ANWR looks even more like Prudhoe Bay; a snowy, barren wasteland that, I say, looks pretty good with that big oil well sticking out of it.” 6 The caribou “couldn’t care less whether we were there, the pipeline was there, or the oil company was there,” responded then-Representative John Boehner (R-OH).7 Since the 1980s, all of Alaska’s Republican Senators have made it their mission to open ANWR. Longtime Alaska Senator Lisa Murkowski still maintains that “there is no valid reason why we should not be allowed to proceed,” even after countless talks with Gwich’in leaders.8 “Jobs” and “energy security” are terms thrown around by conservative leaders to justify opening ANWR, but human rights are not part of the picture. Even those who advocate for protection often sideline concerns about Gwich’in food security and cultural survival in favor of talk about pristine wilderness and wildlife. As Princess claims, “Our elders say, ‘you can’t eat money, and you can’t drink oil.’ […]

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ecosystems more than we’re valuing the almighty dollar.” 9 “It’s such a disconnect,” she continues.

“That’s really been the ongoing issue with American society and many parts of the rest of the world, where we as humans have lost this humility that we are absolutely dependent on our Mother Earth and all of her resources.” 10 Through the process of colonization, Westerners have chosen the economist’s calculus of cost and benefit at the expense of Alaskan Indigenous knowledge of land and life, belittled as barbaric and useless. What we forget is that Indigenous peoples have lived sustainably on their lands for millennia— archaeological evidence suggests the Gwich’in have lived in Northern Alaska and Canada for at least 20,000 years. Their knowledge of their land is extensive and has allowed them to sustainably hunt caribou for thousands of years. As climate change causes the Arctic to thaw, researchers are beginning to refocus on Indigenous knowledge to gain a better understanding of environmental change.

A recent book, The Caribou Taste Different Now, logs the observations of Inuit elders and knowledge holders as the Arctic climate changes, from minute differences in the taste of caribou to changes in the wild blueberry harvest. Tom Goldtooth from the Indigenous Environmental Network explains, “The industrialized world has removed humanity from nature that requires a need for organizers to be intentional on restorative justice strategies on reframing our relationship to the Circle of Life, Mother Earth and our cosmovision.” 11 If we are to create a world in which we can live sustainably with nature, we must follow Indigenous leadership and place Indigenous knowledge in the center. The Gwich’in have been living and breathing sustainability for millennia. It is beyond time we started listening. t

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As I returned to Fairbanks on an 8-seater plane, I tried to sort through my thoughts and questions.

The image of my bright neon jacket standing out against the browns and greens of the village was stuck in my head. I felt a deep sense of conflict between my privilege and their fight. How did the Gwich’in feel, seeing white people come to their Gatherings, most of whom never returned again?

How was it possible for us outsiders to help in a fight that was so personal and spiritual? It was easy

© Troutnut (Shutterstock)

for me to hop on a plane, visit the Gathering, and return comfortably to my home, safe and secure.

How could I relate to someone with the entire existence of their culture on the line?

Despite these thoughts, the ANWR issue was something I had begun to care about deeply. I felt it was a key battle in a much larger struggle. I remembered the words of Aboriginal activist Lilla Watson: “If you have come to help me, then you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” 12 Although I wouldn’t immediately be affected by drilling in ANWR, I had more in common with Gwich’in activists than I first thought; we had a common enemy. The ANWR issue isn’t isolated. Climate change is already affecting life in my hometown through wildfires, unusually warm winters, and perceivable changes in our ecosystems, all of which will worsen if the carbon underneath the Coastal Plain is allowed into the atmosphere.

Though my privilege allows me a degree of separation, my fight for a more sustainable Alaska is intimately tied to the Gwich’in fight for food security and cultural survival.

Privileged people are often faced with a choice: do we use an opportunity to engage with underprivileged communities to make genuine, long lasting commitments and relationships, or do we write it on our resume and move on? As I was growing up in Fairbanks, moving out of Alaska was seen as a mark of success. But climate change and global ecological collapse have forced me to reexamine my own relationship to the place I grew up. If one

thing was absolutely clear to me during my time at the Gwich’in Gathering, it was that the Gwich’in weren’t going anywhere. If I am to be effective as an advocate and organizer for environmental justice, I must strive to have as strong of a commitment to my home as the Gwich’in have for theirs. This is why I plan to move back to Alaska after graduation: to build a brighter future with the people and land I call home.

Privileged people are often faced with a choice: do we use an opportunity to engage with underprivileged communities to make genuine, long lasting commitments and relationships, or do we write it on our resume and move on?

“I think part of the way that we check our own privilege is by recognizing that we have an obligation to be stewards and protectors of the places that we live, and do it in a respectful and meaningful way,” says Princess.13 “Wherever you live, you have to recognize that you are stepping on Indigenous lands that have a very deep-rooted history and ecology.” 14 Who are the Indigenous people of the land? What is the history of colonization and extractive industries in your area? Where does your water and electricity come from? These are basic questions environmental stewards should be able to answer. I began to see the fight to protect ANWR as also a symbolic one, championed by those who VOLUME 7

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are imagining a better way of living with nature.

Gwich’in resistance to oil development is part of an international movement of Indigenous peoples protecting their home and demanding that all of us think more critically about our own connection with Mother Earth. The Kari-Oca Declaration, signed in 2012 by Indigenous peoples from around the world, is clear in its directive: “We must focus on sustainable communities based on indigenous knowledge, not on capitalist development.” 15 t

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In my last few days at the Gwich’in Gathering, I stayed with Sarah James, an elder in Arctic Village who has been at the forefront of the fight since the beginning. Plaques and awards commending her environmental advocacy line the walls of her small cabin. An old wooden frame held a picture of her shaking hands with Bill Clinton, reminding me of how long the fight has lasted. She warmly welcomed me to her cabin, cooking me dinner for two nights with the limited provisions she bought with food stamps. I wondered how many dozens of visitors she had hosted in the three decades since the first Gwich’in Gathering. I desperately wanted We refuse to believe the false choice between more oil and a nation without a future. Instead, we will work together to build a world in which no one will question a decision to put Indigenous land, life, and culture before cash.

to stay. Her statement on the Gwich’in Steering Committee website is somber: “Maybe there are too few of us to matter; maybe people think Indians are not important enough to consider in making their energy decisions. But it’s my people who are

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threatened by this development. We are the ones who have everything to lose.” 16 As we boarded the plane back to Fairbanks, she handed me a small bag filled with Labrador tea. The sweet, spicy scent of the tundra followed me all the way home.

For more than three decades, politician and fossil fuel executives have been weighing the political cost of destroying the livelihood of the Gwich’in against the cash they will make from the oil under the Coastal Plain. To those we say, “No more.” We refuse to buy their story that opening ANWR will guarantee energy security. We refuse to believe the false choice between more oil and a nation without a future. Instead, we will work together to build a world in which no one will question a decision to put Indigenous land, life, and culture before cash.

Even as I write, Republicans are pushing a federal budget through Congress that would open ANWR to development. Despite this news, Princess says the Gwich’in are more resolute than ever: “The things that keep me going are seeing my children laugh and smile on the banks of the Yukon River, going to fish camp and pulling king salmon out of the net, and processing that king salmon with my mother and my family. […] There is just so much beauty and blessings around us all the time, and that gives me hope, that keeps me going, that’s my shajol (walking stick). Your generation has a lot on your shoulders but I have faith. You are the innovators, the ones that are going to think outside of the box and create a more sustainable way of living and being.” She smiles. “That gives me hope.” 17 Though I may not have a place where my grandfather’s nose watches over me, I’ve been inspired by those who do to think deeper about my own relationship to Mother Earth, my role in the fight, and my future. As I prepare to graduate and move back to Alaska, I imagine the smell of Labrador tea embracing me on my return. I hope to go back to Arctic Village many times.

© Bob Clarke

NOTES 1

“Introduction,” Gwich’in Caribou Anatomy, accessed October 22, 2017, http://www.vadzaih.com/introduction.

2

3

4

Gwich’in Steering Committee, “A Moral Choice for the United States: The Human Rights Implications for the Gwich’in of Drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge,” (Report, 2005), 17.

Johnson.

5 6

7

Princess Daazhraii Johnson, interview by Kengo Nagaoka, September 29, 2017, transcript.

ibid.

Ryan Powers, “Beck, Boehner: Arctic Refuge Is A ‘Wasteland,’ Wildlife ‘Couldn’t Care Less’ About Drilling,” ThinkProgress, July 24, 2008.

ibid.

8

“ Murkowski, Sullivan Introduce Bill to Allow Energy Production in 1002 Area of Arctic Coastal Plain,” U.S. Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resource: Republican News, Janu-

ary 5, 2017. Accessed October 22, 2017, https://www.energy.senate.gov/public/index.cfm/2017/1/

9

murkowski-sullivan-introduce-bill-to-allow-energy-production-in-1002-area-of-arctic-coastal-plain.

Johnson.

10 11

ibid.

Hilary Moore and Joshua Kahn Russell, Organizing Cools The Planet (Oakland: PM Press, 2011), 19.

12

ibid., 15.

13 14 15

Johnson.

ibid.

Indigenous Peoples Global Conference on Rio+20 and Mother Earth, “Kari-Oca Declaration,” (Declaration, Rio de

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Janeiro, 2012).

David Thompson, “Who We Are,” Gwich’in Steering Committee (blog), September 7, 2016, http://www.gwichinsteeringcommittee.org/whoweare.html.

Johnson.

Opening image on page 16 provided by author

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

image provided by author

Kengo Nagaoka was born in Fairbanks, Alaska, to Japanese immigrant parents.

He is a senior at DU and is an international studies major with minors in leadership studies and music. After graduation, he is planning to move back to Alaska to work on environmental justice and climate change issues. Kengo loves biking, playing music, and being in nature.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR In the summer of 2016, I had an opportunity to visit Arctic Village, Alaska to attend the Gwich’in Gathering, a bi-annual gathering of the Gwich’in Indigenous peoples of northeast Alaska and Canada. It was my first time north of the Arctic Circle and in a Native village. I was amazed by the natural beauty of the land and the generosity of the people. Simultaneously, I was struck by the difficult living conditions of rural Alaska and tremendous pressure the Gwich’in were under from politicians and the fossil fuel industry to concede to oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

Having grown up 240 miles south in Fairbanks, I was shocked that environmental injustice was happening so close to home and angry that I hadn’t known about it sooner.

As I prepare to finish my last year at DU, I reflect on the people and places that have made me who I am today. Particularly vivid in my mind are the relationships I made and places I visited during my summer back home in Alaska a year ago. The leaders I met brought me into a movement of Alaskans working together to build a radically different future for our state: one that centers on justice and sustainability instead of fossil fuel extraction.

They challenged me to think deeper than ever before about my own privilege, the history of Alaska, and my role in making a better future. DU stresses service learning yet rarely provides students with a framework to think about what it means for us to go into underprivileged communities or how to organize on issues in solidarity with people different from ourselves. I share my reflections from my time at the Gwich’in Gathering and hope to raise questions for you about your privilege, your home, and our Mother Earth.

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Souvenir

by

Alice Major

WRIT 1133 Writing & Research | Professor LP Picard

THE SUMMER BEFORE MY FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff—ready to fly but not quite launched. I spent most of it traveling along I-70, I-25, and lonely state highways. Denver was the most frequent point of departure, and the three-hour drive south to my hometown was my time to unwind. I’d spend most of it looking out the window.

Between Denver and Colorado Springs, the landscape is green, hilly, and covered with new housing developments. As you travel south, the buildings grow fewer and farther between, the landscape dryer and more rugged. On the left are the Great Plains, rolling into eternity; on the right are the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.

About forty-five minutes south of Pueblo, there’s a handful of gas stations and road-side hotels. They look like they’d been blown up against the piñon-covered ridge behind them, stuck there by the necessity of fuel and food for travelers. Here is where we would exit, driving through the pioneer buildings and a notch in the ridge into Walsenburg.

This town of 3,000 residents, boasting two grocery stores and just as many stoplights, is my hometown. I spent my childhood nestled at the edge of the foothills. For the majority of the years I’ve lived here, all five blocks of the downtown area collected tumbleweeds. Sprinkled between ancient, empty shop fronts were a handful of insurance VOLUME 7

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(left) © Kent Kanouse (right) image provided by author

companies, banks, and the courthouse where we would meet my dad on his lunch hour.1 The summer before college, I was ready to leave.

I’d learned there was more to this world beyond the shop fronts and abandoned houses I’d grown up resenting. Ironically, by this time, the shop fronts and abandoned houses were starting to fill up.

Though the population has been slowly but steadily declining since 2000, income and the housing market are on the rise.2 It’s hard not to associate this change with marijuana. Since marijuana was legalized in 2012, the county has seen a notable increase of growers and tourists.3 It helps that the cost of living here is infinitesimal compared to the area around Denver.

Wherever they come from and for whatever reason, the influx is enough to support new retail business. A hip coffee shop opened in a historic hotel building the summer of 2013. I visited for the first time while I was buying dorm supplies.

As I waited for my caramel macchiato, I wandered around, listening to the baristas talk about the YouTube tutorials they used to learn espresso-making.

The coffee shop doubled as a gift shop for the tourists that drive through on their way to the Sand Dunes or Wolf Creek. Rugged purses hung from 1 2

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I grew up looking out my back window at two mountains, memorizing their twin silhouettes and their

My dad is a paralegal who used to teach Latin. My mom is a teacher who used to be a computer scientist.

According to 2015 figures on City-Data.com, the population of Walsenburg experienced a -30.8% change since 2000. In those same 15 years, however, median household income has increased from $22,005 to $26,277; median house value has increased from $62,100 to $89,561.

The town sold 330 acres of municipal land in 2015 to create a campus for cannabis greenhouses, hoping to turn Walsenburg into one of the nation’s largest producers of legal marijuana.

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horseshoe hooks on the timber walls near shelves showcasing Colorado flag shot glasses. One rack by the door held a slightly more area-specific souvenir: colorful plastic “explorer helmets” emblazoned with “ WALSENBURG COLORADO.” The hard hats were simple, with lamps on the front, the kind worn by miners in the tunnels.

Across the street is a new park, Miners Plaza—a monument to the town’s mining history. It includes scattered timber frames, like the ones that would prop up the tunnels, and a stage backed by the rusty outline of the nearby mountains. From the 1880s to the 1950s, coal mining was our main industry, and it is to this past that we look to build our future. It’s something to set us apart from other struggling cities in Huerfano County, a reason for festivals and coffee shop souvenirs.

The lopsided timbers and plastic hats seemed to whisper an appeal that this place was unique, that it should be appreciated. At the very least, they said, buy a souvenir. Remember this place after you pass through.

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ridges. They’re commonly called the Spanish Peaks, but their original name is Wahatoya—“Breasts of the Earth.” In their shadows, I swam and hiked.

I collected shattered glass from dust-covered camp dumps, tennis shoes frayed from cactus-cluttered hikes to see the foundations of company homes, and memories of joining my dad under the mining monument by the courthouse. The Wahatoya were a constant, soothing presence at the edge of town.

My mountains had been named by Ute and Apache for whom the peaks are sacred. Their admiration for the mountains is preserved in native legends, like one that history professor and politician George McGovern mentions in The Great Coalfield War: Before Walsenburg is reached a final abandoned spur points toward La Veta Pass at the foot of the Spanish Peaks, a valley described in Indian legend as once a paradise where pain and suffering were unknown until the white man invaded it, whereupon the angry gods of Huajatolla made La Veta as prone to grief as the rest of the world.4 I invaded the valley at three years old, the Irish/ Scottish/German daughter of a father from Boulder and a mother from Kansas City. However, my family and I were late to the party. White men began their invasion first as straggling trappers and traders and then, in the 18th century, in greater numbers

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In their shadows, I swam and hiked. I collected shattered glass from dust-covered camp dumps, tennis shoes frayed from cactus-cluttered hikes to see the foundations of company homes, and memories of joining my dad under the mining monument by the courthouse. The Wahatoya were a constant, soothing presence at the edge of town.

Their numbers, however, were limited. The New Mexico trading trails could only import so much, and, with the exception of the paradise-like Cucharas River Valley, the land was semi-arid.

It could sustain far fewer people than other settled areas. In his book Killing for Coal, University of Colorado Boulder history professor Thomas Andrews says that the few colonial habitants of what is now Huerfano County were “driven to the point of distraction” by the isolation of wilderness.5 Andrews writes that Huerfano County’s isolation ended with the advent of the coal-driven steam engine. William Jackson Palmer, John Evans, and

An alternate spelling of Wahatoya.

The county borrows its name from the volcanic plug called the Huerfano—Spanish for “orphan.” It’s essentially a giant pile of black volcanic rocks miles west of the foothills of the Wet Mountains, which are in turn a few miles north of the Spanish Peaks.

© Jeffrey Beall

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as homesteaders. Their technology allowed them to work the land for everything it had to give. Supported by imports from the east, they had enough provisions to stick stubbornly to the windswept plains and foothills.

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© ericncindy24 (flickr)

a variety of other entrepreneurs began building railroads to connect the area to cities back east, to the mineral mines in the mountains, to the Royal Gorge, and to the Raton Pass. Their trains needed fuel, and the timber had mostly been stripped from the Front Range by homesteaders and silver miners. Fortunately for their businesses, Palmer had the solution: through his travels in southern Colorado, he’d found massive outcroppings of coal.6 Palmer opened collieries7 first in Fremont County and then in Las Animas 8 and Huerfano Counties in the 1870s.

Immigrants flooded to the Trinidad Coal Field, drawn by the work in the mines and carried by the new railroads.9 In 1880, there were 1,500 colliers in Colorado’s mines, 7,000 in 1900, and 15,864 in 1910.10 Historian Caryn Neumann says that “the workforce itself was largely immigrant labor from southern and eastern Europe, including many Greeks, Italians, Germans, Poles, Slavs, Serbians, Austrians, and Montenegrins.” 11 The miners’ migration at the turn of the century was similar to the influx of marijuana growers in recent years. Once marijuana was legalized 6

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in Colorado, the prospect of work and prosperity spread through the media and the grapevine.12 A friend recently commented that one could work in a growhouse with no experience for far over minimum wage. News about the work in the coal mines spread the same way. A young Italian man named Emilio Ferraro jumped on the bandwagon of American voyages and met his uncles in Trinidad. They then took him to Starkville,13 where his uncle got him a job making $2 a day—a lot for the 1890s.14 Stories about young men like him spread and the industry expanded.15 However we view it now, coal was an incredibly desirable product, as it fueled electrical plants, steam engines, streetcars, brickworks, and steelworks.16 The bricks established Denver’s urban core, and the streetcars provided a way for the businessmen to live up and away from the coal plants, whose thick black smoke hovered over cities and mines.

The skies above 21st-century Walsenburg are some of the clearest you could imagine, and the foothills the most peaceful place I’ve been to. It wasn’t always this way, though. The pollution from the mines once hung over the area like Denver’s

The area he discovered, called the Trinidad Coal Field, was a prehistoric swamp. The same volcanic activity that pushed up the Spanish Peaks and their dikes also pushed up and refined immense masses of coal.

Coal mines and their connected equipment.

8 9

County southeast of Huerfano.

Most of the information in this section comes from Thomas Andrews’s Killing for Coal.

10 11

Andrews says, “Colorado’s mine workforce accounted for fully 10 percent of those employed in the state.”

The evidence of their ethnic diversity survives to some degree in Walsenburg. I’ve seen it in the variety of traditional foods at potlucks at St. Mary Our Lady of Sorrows.

12

“Can Weed Save Walsenburg?” asks Newsweek. “New Marijuana Greenhouses to Help Walsenburg Economy,” replies local KOAA News 5.

13 14 15

A mine just south of Trinidad.

Andrews tells Ferraro’s journey in his book, including that the “green Italian” first went to “this shoe shop.”

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By the end of the 19th century, as McGovern says, more than half of Colorado’s coal output came from the Trinidad Coal Field.

Pueblo, fifty miles north of Walsenburg, grew up around the Minnequa steel plant.

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smog, and it’s still visible in the red and black slag heaps dotting the landscape.17 My father told me what the slag heaps were when I was little, and we drove past them every week on our way to my grandparents’ house. I always knew that coal mining was part of our history,18 as much as I knew that cholla cactus and piñon trees were pretty much our only vegetation. I never questioned it—why should I? I was a child, picking up fragments of broken dishes from the coal camp’s dump and displaying them on my grandparents’ shelves, yawning as my father and I explored the just-visible foundation of a coal camp house.

I never knew that I was playing in the ruins of one of the most decried features of coal mines.

The company town was the brainchild of John Cleveland Osgood, Colorado Fuel and Iron Company (CFI) tycoon. Osgood knew the importance of keeping his workers at least somewhat happy and healthy and, in a gesture of what George McGovern describes as “a novel example of industrial paternalism,” created a living environment for the miners that was as company-controlled as the tunnels they worked in. The miners and their families lived in company homes in company towns that were enclosed by company guards. Even “the doctors, priests, schoolteachers, and law enforcement were all company employees,” Caryn Neumann notes.

Company towns came complete with company stores. Miners were paid in company scrip, which

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I always knew that coal mining was part of our history, as much as I knew that cholla cactus and piñon trees were pretty much our only vegetation. I never questioned it—why should I? I was a child, picking up fragments of broken dishes from the coal camp’s dump. [...] I never knew that I was playing in the ruins of one of the most decried features of coal mines.

say that he couldn’t die because he owed too much money to the company store. His father’s far-toocommon woes inspired “Sixteen Tons.” 19 You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt.

Saint Peter don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go I owe my soul to the company store.

“Sixteen Tons” was part of my childhood landscape, one of my father’s favorites. One morning I woke up to Dad singing in the garden outside my window, his shovel falling with the downbeats. It was a catchy tune with easy words, and it fell into the background, just like the foundations of the company home that Dad talked about.

Slag is part of the coal waste from the purifying process. The coal companies left their waste for us to deal with.

My neighbors have lived in the small brown house next to mine since we moved in. One of them, a grandmother, is the daughter of a coal miner. I remember playing in the shade of a pine tree as my parents talked to her over the fence. She was born in one of the coal camps that peppered Huerfano County, and she’d played on the steps of their one-room cabin just as I was playing in the pine needles. She intended never to leave Walsenburg, now that she owned a proper house.

Perhaps the most famous coal mining song of all time, it was made famous by Tennessee Ernie, whose jazzy, finger-snapping rendition was “the fastest selling record” of 1955, according to LIFE.

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© Ken Lund

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could only be spent at the company store that sold basic necessities at inflated prices. Because the miners feared being fired for taking their business elsewhere, they could end up in a lot of debt.

Songwriter Merle Travis grew up hearing his father

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Clockwise from left: © Ashley Van Haeften; © el-toro (flickr); © New York Public Library

The song came back to me when I was in high school choir. In 2014, our director added “Sixteen Tons” to the spring concert. I sang the lyrics over and over, and I had two choices: be a robot for four hours a week, or think about the words.

I was born one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine I picked up my shovel and walked to the mine Loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal And the straw boss said, “Well, bless my soul.”

For a while, I thought “number nine coal” was a kind of coal—like #2 is a kind of pencil. Then I did some research. Merle Travis grew up in Kentucky next to two coal mines: the No. 6 and the No. 9.

According to song historians Edith Fowke and Joe Glazer, No. 9 was notorious for having low ceilings and being extraordinarily difficult to mine. Loading sixteen tons of No. 9 coal was quite a feat.

Miners were paid by the weight of the coal they put into the coal cars. To get the coal from point A to point B, they essentially had to rip apart millions of years of geological engineering. The process involved using a pick to hack away the bottom of a “working face” 20 and then blowing the rest out with explosives. Once the explosion was done, if the ceiling was intact, the miners would retreat underground to collect the coal, shoveling it into cars to be weighed at the surface.

The checkweighmen were company appointed and therefore inclined to cheat. One of them could easily short the miners on their pay and none but 20

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The exposed area of a coal bed from which the coal is extracted.

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him would ever know. George McGovern says of the miner, “as much a part of him as the pick he wielded was the tormenting conviction that he could never be sure of being fully paid for what he had sweated to produce.”

A miner’s sweat was spent not only on shoveling the coal for profit but also on other tasks required to secure and maintain the mines. According to Caryn Neumann, this work “included taking away rock to get to the coal, removing coal dust, laying track for the cars, and placing timbers so that the ceiling would not collapse.” Coal dust could explode, and improperly-placed timbers could result in cave-ins, so it’s ironic that the work to prevent these accidents was called “dead work.”

Because miners were not paid for dead work, they were tempted to streamline these tasks so they could make a little more money that day. Sometimes streamlining meant cutting important corners, like checking to see if there was any methane or other hazards, which often caused accidents. A particularly bad one occurred in the Jokerville Mine near Crested Butte in January 1884. Thomas Andrews calls the explosion “Colorado’s first major colliery disaster,” and what a disaster it was. The Denver Tribune illustrates the fate of the 59 casualties: The clothing was burned and blackened, the faces in many cases were bruised out of all semblance to humanity. Hands were raised as if to protect the face, the skin and flesh hanging in burned and blackened shreds, arms bro-

Colorado’s deadliest colliery disaster would come in 1911, when 121 men perished in an explosion and collapse at the Hastings Mine, outside Trinidad.

Cave-ins were less dramatic but just as deadly.

According to Andrews, they accounted for almost half of the 1,708 deaths of Colorado coal miners between 1884 and 1912.

Even if improper maintenance didn’t cause an immediate catastrophe, the conditions at the coal mines could cause other problems. Take black lung disease—coal worker’s pneumoconiosis. When a miner inhales coal dust, it builds up in his lungs, causing inflammation and eventually progressive massive fibrosis.21 Bad cases end in the victim suffocating to death after surviving years in the mines.

These local deaths aren’t without their remembrances. The ones I knew in my childhood were two statues, one in front of a mining museum and the other guarding a tiny patch of lawn on Main Street. The mining museum is behind the courthouse where we’d meet Dad on his breaks, so I grew up with that image of a coal miner, stoic with his pick over his shoulder. In my head, coal mining was a job just like the one my dad did. I didn’t understand why a job merited a monument with hundreds of names carved at its feet. I’m selfishly 21

glad that I didn’t. The knowledge of the job’s horrific consequences would have cast a pall over golden childhood afternoons.22 Despite the wealth or even the simple occupation a job mining coal promised, it came with risks made worse by company policy. Coal miners wanted jobs, but they also didn’t want to die.

But protesting company policies alone was at best useless and at worst dangerous. Enter the union.23 According to the United Mine Workers of America, “The UMWA continues the fight we began in 1890 for safe workplaces, good wages and benefits, and strong representation for working families throughout North America.” In 1913, the UMWA (simply the UMW at the time) sent representatives to the Trinidad Coal Field. These representatives set into motion the chain of events that came to a bloody climax in April 1914. t

t

t

I think the entirety of Colorado knew that 2014 was the 100th anniversary of the Ludlow Massacre.

It was widely publicized in newspapers and posters; on the radio and TV; and in events set up by libraries, schools, and other organizations. Whether most of the state knew what the Ludlow Massacre was—that was a different question. Was it something to celebrate? To mourn? To inspire rage?

In 2016, NPR did a study on black lung cases in Appalachia, one of the U.S.’s major mining areas, and found an incredible number of PMF cases, more than previously reported. Former coal miner Charles Stanley says that even now, miners avoid NIOSH (National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health) testing because they fear being fired. He waited until he was out of work before getting his first chest x-ray.

There’s another monument I remember. Right next to the old train depot and its yellow caboose stood a board that looked like a ten-foot-tall earring organizer. Bronze discs hung upon countless pegs. I always thought it was a foolish abstract art installation until we found a similar disc in the dump near my grandparents’ house. A family friend, one of the unofficial keepers of the local legends and history, explained the purpose: A miner would take the chips into the mines at the beginning of the work day. If the chip was not returned at the end of the shift, the bosses knew that the miner had been lost to an accident they would ascribe to negligence on the miner’s part.

22

23

Simply put, a union is an organization that advocates for workers’ rights.

from left: © United States Library of Congress; © United States Library of Congress; © Beverly & Pack (flickr)

ken, legs broken, and in some cases boots torn off by the force of the blast.

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My high school painted it as a piece of unique history to celebrate—not that it happened, but that it happened nearby. It was our legacy. My school held a presentation about it in April 2014, which included a variety of coal mining songs performed by my choir. Our selection included general coal mining songs, like “Sixteen Tons,” and area-specific songs, like Woody Guthrie’s ballad “The Ludlow Massacre,” rehearsed with mere sprinklings of historical context.

Violence from both sides make tensions rise. The cold wears down the families in the tent colonies. To top it all off, the CFI uses searchlights on the camp every night, waking the families up and stealing their little period of rest. Even staunchly optimistic Mary is growing anxious and tired.

According to my choir director’s summary of the events, a strike was first called in September 1913. The miners and their families spent the winter in tent colonies, harassed by the National Guard, until a firefight in April 1914 ended in over a dozen casualties. This is the version of the Ludlow Massacre that my school got—about as general and neutral as the histories in our textbooks.

Generic history then got combined with the aforementioned Woody Guthrie ballad. First, it is lyrically very simple. Perhaps straightforward to a more sophisticated—or sympathetic—listener, but 24

We took some cement and walled that cave up, Where you killed these thirteen children inside.

Now, you have to understand that I am the oldest of four and more protective of my siblings than a mama bear. So after I heard those lyrics, I couldn’t shake them, and I couldn’t put off learning the details anymore.

In September 1913, John Lawson, the president of the UMW, sent a list of demands to the coal operators in the Trinidad coal field: 24 1. 10% increase on tonnage rates 2. An 8-hour workday 3. Payment for dead work 4. The right to elect their own men to weigh their coal 5. The right to trade in any store and to choose their boarding places and doctors 6. Enforcement of Colorado mining laws and abolition of the company guard system 7. Recognition of the union If the demands were not met, Lawson warned, the miners would strike within a week.

In September 2014, exactly 101 years after that strike was called and a few months after my choir performance, the annual Spanish Peaks

Most of the following details are from Caryn Neumann’s account in St. James Encyclopedia of Labor History Worldwide, including the list.

Public Domain / Denver Public Library

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downright stupid to a group of bored teenagers.

Add that to a nasally recording full of odd mispronunciations like “potat-ers” and “Wal-ens-burg” and you get a recipe for copious mockery. Practicing that song was the low point of every already boring rehearsal. I had two choices: go with the flow and entertain myself with mockery, or actually listen to the lyrics.

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UMW pay the strikers, but because most of them believe in the UMW’s cause. Those that don’t are often peer-pressured into not breaking the strike.

The play unfolds from Mary’s perspective, so I filled in some of the details with my own research.

In offices far away from Ludlow, pencil-pushers scramble to find a solution to the turmoil. John D. Rockefeller Jr., CFI’s major stockholder, had never involved himself much in CFI business. Caryn Neumann believes that Rockefeller was unaware of the realities of a coal miner’s life. Instead of considering the union’s stance, he insists that mediation or protection from “union intimidation” would get the striking miners back to work. When mediation fails, company mine overseers and their sheriffs ask Governor Elias Ammons for state militia.

Ammons acquiesces.

I listened to Mary’s soliloquy with apprehensive sympathy. Violence from both sides make tensions rise. The cold wears down the families in the tent colonies. To top it all off, the CFI uses searchlights on the camp every night, waking the families up and stealing their little period of rest. Even staunchly optimistic Mary is growing anxious and tired.

Once again, research fills in the gaps in my memory and the limits of a one-woman play.

Even the state militia and their officers were getting tired. By April 17, 1914, most of the militia had been removed for various reasons—excess of force, cost, etc. Caryn Neumann describes the fatal piece of the puzzle: “Only one unit of 34 soldiers remained, but it was joined by a newly formed unit of 100 mine employees [hired guards] who received

“Members of the Colorado National Guard, called in to suppress the UMW strike against CF&I, pose with their rifles drawn in the destroyed miners’ camp near Ludlow, Las Animas County, Colorado.”

Public Domain / Denver Public Library

International Celtic Music Festival was held in Huerfano County. This year was a little different from years past. Normally, the three-day festival consisted of workshops, hooleys, singing circles, and musical performances, ending on Sunday afternoon with all the entertainers and festivalgoers excitedly gathered—albeit a bit tired—at one big concert. In 2014, the concert was replaced by a one-woman play: For Tomorrow We May Die

by Barbara Yule.25 It tells the true story of Mary Thomas,26 a young Welsh mother at the Ludlow tent camp. That day, on a sun-gilded afternoon in a mountain town where the aspens were turning, the Ludlow Massacre came alive for me.

Mary comes to the Trinidad coal field looking for her husband. With her bubbly personality, she makes many friends among the colliers’ wives.

When the strike is called on September 23, more than 90% of the workforce—over 11,000 workers, who spoke 24 different languages—meet the strike call. Mary and her friends are among them.

The companies couldn’t stand to have workers and their families living in company houses they weren’t working for, so thousands of people were promptly evicted. The UMW was prepared—it had leased land and prepared tents and ovens for their strikers. Tent colonies mushroomed over Huerfano and Las Animas Counties. The most important one of these was Ludlow, about 25 miles away from Walsenburg.

Mary tries to keep everyone’s spirits up through the difficulties of striking and living in a tent colony. The winter is cold and harsh, but they stay through it—not because of the tiny benefits the

Barbara Yule is also the founder of the Spanish Peaks International Celtic Music Festival.

The role of Mary was played by Tanya Perkins, a local actress and vocal coach. She was one of the people who initially got me interested in choir, so perhaps this added to the power of the play.

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(left) © United States Library of Congress: “Ruins of the Ludlow Colony near Trinidad, Colorado, following an attack by the Colorado National Guard.”

(right) © Mary Hockenbery

no guard training or uniforms before going into action.”

Back in the play, Mary, her friends, and her children are exhausted and ready for a peaceful end to a long winter. It appears that the higher-ups are as well, because on April 20, Major Patrick Hamrock meets with Louis Tikas, Greek union organizer. Mary is not privy to anything more than the fact that soon shots are fired.27 The soldiers and untrained employees join the melee, firing from the hills while strikers shoot from embankments around the camp.

Never again would I pass a monument without questioning it, without wanting to find the story.

This is worse than any of the scuffles beforehand; this is a daylong firefight. Women and children run for the shelter of hills and arroyos while the strikers keep fighting. Some women and children take refuge in cellars below the tents. Finally, the miners are driven from the tents, and the guardsmen set fire to the tent colony.

The most horrific part for me wasn’t the battle, or the pillaging, or the injustice. I was just as remotely angry about that as I was about, say, half of the actions of the British Empire. The most 27

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horrific part was watching tears stream down Tanya’s face as Mary received the news that her two best friends and their children had been trapped in a cellar as their tent burned above them. A dozen children and two women suffocated and died in a pit.

In that moment, in a room full of retired Celtic music fans in plastic chairs, our town history became more than something to be enraged about. Just a few weeks prior, I’d experienced true loss for the first time when a woman I was close to passed away. A century of objective analysis and candy-coating no longer separated me from Mary and I was there with her, sobbing because a part of my heart had been torn away and it felt like a hole punched through my world.

On April 20, 1914, 25 people died in the hills half an hour away from the town I grew up in. It wasn’t the first labor-related clash, and it certainly wasn’t the last. It wasn’t even the deadliest. Nonetheless, it is credited by many—including McGovern and Neumann—with inspiring a lot of the New Deal workplace progress. It’s remembered with an anniversary, a monument on the site, and a handful of catchy songs. But after that September afternoon, coal mining could never be such a neutral subject for me. Never again would I pass a monument without questioning it, without wanting to find the story.

Later, Louis Tikas was shot in the back under dubious circumstances.

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t

t

t

Public Domain, General Records of the Department of Labor: A funeral for the victims of the Ludlow Massacre.

Two years later, I walked into the new coffee shop for the first time and saw the WALSENBURG COLORADO explorer hats in neon pink and green.

They called back to the monuments of my childhood and the memories they kept—stories of subterranean life, work, and death, of its history and its politics.

Most of the older residents in town know more about our fraught coal mining history than I do.

After all, they grew up with the stories, and many of them heard the tales from the people who lived in the company towns and worked the mines. But though they’ve heard the stories, they don’t tell them.

I fear we don’t tell the stories because it would uncover the complexity of the subterranean world.

Stories reveal that our history is more than cut-anddried economical benchmarks. It’s easier to present

it as a nice, boxed-up timeline of the rise and fall of industries, not people. If we do that, then papers like USA Today and High Country News can sum us up in neat headlines: “old mining town turns to marijuana after prison, factory close.” We can market ourselves as a quirky tourist stop with ties to local history—come to our Mountain Mining Days festival!

I fear we don’t face the complexity of our stories because it would bring up questions, and uncomfortable ones. We’d be forced to truly remember our past. Can we really boast of our ethnic diversity?

Should we continue to put all of our hopes and dreams into one booming industry? Do we really want to bring back the prosperity we knew during the coal mining days?

Or do we want to just wear our explorer hats to candy-coated celebrations of history?

I fear we don’t face the complexity of our stories because it would bring up questions, and uncomfortable ones. We’d be forced to truly remember our past.

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© Jeffrey Beall

WORKS CONSULTED Andrews, Thomas G. Killing for Coal. Harvard UP, 2008.

Berkes, Howard. “Advanced Black Lung Cases Surge in Appalachia.” National Public Radio, 15 Dec. 2016, https://www. npr.org/2016/12/15/505577680/advanced-black-lung-cases-surge-in-appalachia.

Dowling, Stephen. “Bragg’s 20 Years on Campaign Trail.” BBC News, 7 Oct. 2003, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/3171574.stm.

Fowke, Edith, and Joe Glazer. Songs of Work and Freedom. Doubleday, 1961.

Franklin, Raymond A., and David L. Gregory. “Labor Songs: The Provocative Product of Psalmists, Prophets, and Poets.” Journal of Catholic Legal Studies, vol. 50, no. 1-2, 2011, p. 297.

Garcia, Alexis, and Alex Manning. “Can Weed Save Walsenburg?” Newsweek, 26 Nov. 2015, http://www.newsweek. com/can-weed-save-walsenburg-398461.

“History of Crested Butte.” Town of Crested Butte, 12 June 2017, http://www.crestedbutte-co.gov/index.asp?Type=B_ BASIC&SEC=%7BF5DE677C-3C31-4EF8-BC84-006F489F66D3%7D.

Hughes, Trevor. “Old Coal Mining Town Turns to Marijuana after Prison, Factory Close.” USA Today, 22 June 2015, https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2015/06/22/colorado-walsenburg-marijuana-facility/29110033/.

Jones, Corey H. “Walsenburg Was ‘Built on Coal.’ But Art Is Helping Fuel Its Future.” Colorado Public Radio, 19 May 2017, http://www.cpr.org/news/story/walsenburg-s-past-was-built-on-coal-will-its-future-be-art-or-history.

Lewis, Shanna. “Remembering the Ludlow Massacre 100 Years Later.” Colorado Public Radio, 18 Apr. 2014, http://www. cpr.org/news/story/remembering-ludlow-massacre-100-years-later.

Lockard, Duane. Coal: A Memoir and Critique. U of Virginia P, 1998.

McGovern, George S., and Leonard F. Guttridge. Great Coalfield War. UP of Colorado, 1996.

Mitchell, Kirk. “Coming Prison Closure Adding to Walsenburg’s Woes.” The Denver Post, 22 Mar. 2010, http://www. denverpost.com/2010/03/22/coming-prison-closure-adding-to-walsenburgs-woes/.

Neumann, Caryn E. “Ludlow Massacre.” St. James Encyclopedia of Labor History Worldwide. Ed. Neil Schlager. Vol. 1.

Detroit: St. James Press, 2004, p. 572-76.

“New Marijuana Greenhouses to Help Walsenburg Economy.” KOAA News 5, 7 Dec. 2015, http://www.koaa.com/ story/30689787/new-marijuana-greenhouses-to-help-walsenburg-economy.

Paul, Jesse. “A 1917 Coal Mine Explosion in Southern Colorado Killed 121. But It’s Just a Faint Memory in the State’s History.” The Denver Post, 11 May 2017, http://www.denverpost.com/2017/04/27/hastings-mine-explosion-1917 colorado-history/.

Quillen, Ed. “How an Isolated Railroad Kept Running for 119 Years.” Colorado Central Magazine, 1 Sept. 2003, http:// cozine.com/2003-september/how-an-isolated-railroad-kept-running-for-119-years/.

“Walsenburg, Colorado.” City-Data, 1 Sept. 2017, http://www.city-data.com/city/Walsenburg-Colorado.html.

“You Load 16 Tons... Coal Mine Song Is a Gold Mine.” LIFE, 5 Dec. 1955, p. 183.

Yule, Barbara. For Tomorrow We May Die, 2014.

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Alice is a sophomore and Colorado native.

She has never been skiing, but most of her childhood was spent clambering around the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. She is now double majoring in English and music with a focus in voice. DU’s Catholic Student Fellowship is half of her life. In her rare spare time, she runs and talks about dogs.

image provided by author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR It dawned on me only at the end of high school that the world is more complex than textbooks paint it. Eyes wide open, I came to college, and my classes blew my worldview apart. Things I’d taken for granted—like the British Empire—suddenly became foreign concepts, and I had to gather stories to fill in the view that I’d only just realized was an empty frame.

When I was choosing my topic for my “interpretive constellation” assignment, I turned back to the thing I thought I knew the most about: my hometown. One reminiscing session later, I realized that all I knew was the monuments and train station and silhouettes of the mountains. I didn’t know the stories that filled them, and I didn’t know what it was that made me want to run.

My hometown has played a huge part in shaping my identity, but I knew as much about it as I did the British Empire. This essay is the product of my grappling.

Opening image on page 25 © Charlotte90T (flickr)

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B REAKI N G T H E G LAS S :

Graduation Patterns over Time at the University of Denver by

Danielle Trujillo

SOCL 2006: Sociological Imagination and Inquiry | Professor Scott Phillips

I. INTRODUCTION THE PEAK OF THE WOMEN’S MOVEMENT IN THE LATE 1960s and 1970s provided the impetus for the passage of Title IX, a statute that strictly prohibits gender-based discrimination in US educational programs. Under Title IX, universities were handed a timely and severe ultimatum to provide equal treatment to both male and female students or risk losing federal financial assistance for their programs. This statute is often thought to be the turning point in the fight for equal access to education for women in the United States, despite some harrowing reports predicting that women working full time and year round continue to make 80 cents for every dollar that their male counterparts earn (“Wage Gap,” 2016). The predicted growth of college-educated women over the last 50 years, and the extent to which women perform academically compared to men, stands as the foundation for the research that follows.

By analyzing graduation programs from the University of Denver between 1960 to 2015, this research explores how gender influences the percentage of students graduating with Latin honors over time.

Assuming that Latin honors (as determined by GPA and/or departmental distinction) serve as a proxy for academic performance during one’s undergraduate studies, the results of this research suggest that women have not come to surpass men with time, but rather have 38

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II. METHODS The current study seeks to analyze the ways in which gender influences whether a student graduates with Latin honors, denoted as cum laude, magna cum laude, and summa cum laude, over the course of 55 years. Examining graduation programs from each decade from 1960 to 2015, the researcher (working as part of a team)1 coded the graduation year, name, gender, degree type, and the presence and type of Latin honors for each undergraduate at the University of Denver [see Appendix A]. In the event that the researchers needed assistance in determining the gender of a student, due to ambiguous or gender-neutral naming, they were advised to consult three web sites: genderchecker. com, gender-api.com, and genderguesser.com. If none of the web sites included an estimated gender of the name, or if multiple web sites included the name but provided conflicting information, the gender was coded as “99,” or indeterminable, and these data points were thus excluded from the statistical analysis.

After vigorously seeking to correct mistakes within the data set due to common human error among the researchers, the research team conducted a cross tabulation of Latin honors by gender, layered by time. First, we tabulated how gender

influenced whether one received Latin honors or not, defined as either “no” Latin honors or “yes” Latin honors, saving the delineation between levels of Latin honors for last. The Chi Square test of this data examined whether the observed distribution of DU’s responses is different from the distribution one would expect if there were no relationship between gender and Latin honors. The larger the Chi Square value, the more confident we were that the relationship in the sample of DU undergraduates holds true in the population of all potential undergraduates.

III. RESULTS The first noticeable trend in the data is the dramatic overall increase in the percentage of students at the University of Denver graduating with Latin honors over time, as illustrated in Table 1. In 1960, a mere 3% of undergraduates earned Latin honors, compared with 23% of graduating students in 2010. Over the course of 50 years, the percentage of students graduating with Latin honors multiplied seven times. Overall, from 1960 to 2015, women have been more likely than men to graduate with Latin honors at DU. Beginning in 2000, the gap between genders widened, thus constituting the relationship statistically significant. With a p-value of 0.00 from 2000 to 2015, the research indicates that there is less than .1% chance of a type I error (defined as concluding that a relationship exists between the two focal variables), when in fact one does not; therefore, there is a 99.9% chance that a relationship between the focal variables gender and Latin honors does in fact exist.

© Shelia Sund

always done so and continue to further their lead.

If a gap ever did exist between men and women in educational performance, this sample serves as evidence of an evolving narrative in higher education, one in which it is appropriate to confirm that girls do, in fact, rule the school.

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TABLE 1.

PERCENTAGE OF DU UNDERGRADUATES GRADUATING WITH LATIN HONORS OVER TIME.

Year

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2015

Female

4%

5%

20%

16%

20%

31%

22%

Male

2%

3%

16%

12%

10%

14%

15%

Overall

3%

16%

18%

14%

16%

23%

19%

Number of Graduates

704

1126

736

537

751

914

1153

P Value

.103

.124

.206

.139

.000

.000

.002

After aggregating the data over time for each level of Latin honors, it appears that the magnitude of difference is relatively similar for each level.

Women were 1.5 times more likely to graduate cum laude than men, 2 times more likely to graduate magna cum laude than men, and 1.5 times more likely to graduate summa cum laude than men.

These findings suggest that women not only outperform men in one type of Latin honors but rather in all categories and to nearly the same extent in each.

IV. DISCUSSION While these patterns might be explained by a number of theories from varying fields, the current study will focus on three viable possibilities.

Despite possible historical discrimination against women in education and in the workplace, the higher percentage of women graduating with Latin honors at the University of Denver during

Gender plays a role in the typical functioning of students, as women are often thought to exhibit fewer “risk-taking” behaviors, conform to order more readily, and require less time to accomplish large motor movements.

this 55-year period may be due to differences in psychological development between the genders.

Recent research in positive psychology indicates that girls display stronger character traits than boys do in virtues such as courage, curiosity, leadership, a love of learning, and social intelligence (Ferragut et al., 2014). Similar gender differences have revealed themselves, specifically within the arena 40

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of academic performance (Soshani & Slone, 2012), across different cultures and countries (Ferragut, 2013; Karris, 2009), indicating that adolescent girls tend to mature earlier than their male counterparts in ways that might lead to academic success. Grafstein (1985) summarizes the literature on notable differences between the sexes in brain development affecting educational outcomes. According to Grafstein, by the average age one typically attends an undergraduate program (approximately 18–24), women have already achieved mental maturity, whereas men do not reach their maximum mental maturity until later.

Assuming that mental maturity is a necessary but not sufficient condition for achieving Latin honors, one might conclude that women would have a higher likelihood of successful academic achievement due to their earlier period of brain development. Moreover, gender plays a role in the typical functioning of students, as women are often thought to exhibit fewer “risk-taking” behaviors, conform to order more readily, and require less time to accomplish large motor movements. Grafstein (1984) notes, “From the age of 10 throughout the college years, females consistently outscored their male counterparts on a number of verbal skills….

Females have been repeatedly shown in these studies to excel on tests of vocabulary, listening, speaking, verbal analogies, comprehension of difficult material, creative writing fluency, and spelling” (6).

Citing studies by Arlin and Brody (1976) and Maccoby and Jacklin (1974), Grafstein similarly suggests that females outperform males in both visual and verbal memory. As Grafstein writes, “After the age of 7, females have been observed to perform particularly well at memory tasks involving verbal content” (17). If success in verbal functioning and memory processing are believed to be necessary

Š Will Folsom

conditions for undergraduate studies, and they invariably are, such human development research might suggest that women have the biological advantage when attending a university. Given such findings on women’s higher academic achievement in conjunction with the idea that women are better prepared for undergraduate studies, in large part due to expedited brain development at a critical time in life, we might hypothesize that women are better prepared for undergraduate studies regardless of the time period and culture, as psychological development appears to be a constant throughout the ages.

A second explanation for women’s high achievement at the University of Denver takes into account the overall trend of Latin honors throughout the time period: a considerably higher percentage of students obtained Latin honors in the 21st century than in the decades before, while the average GPA of all undergraduate students has risen substantially since the 1980s. As data published by the DU Registrar (2009) suggests, students averaged a 2.7 GPA in 1980 and approximately a 3.25 GPA in 2009; women increased their average from 2.9 to 3.4, and men increased their average from 2.8 to 3.3. Knowing that women have historically been more likely to graduate with honors, perhaps a lower standard for either graduating with honors or relaxed grading by professors benefitted one gender more than the other, explaining why the gap between men and women grew over time despite an equal growth in GPA average. Furthermore, despite the positive results of this study in relation

to institutional discrimination, the University of Denver could possibly play a role in contributing to this pattern.

Perhaps women are more likely to achieve Latin honors not because they are more academically talented than their equal male counterparts but rather because the bar for admissions is set higher for women than for men. This would imply that in order for a woman to be admitted into DU, she must exhibit a higher level of academic success than the men who will be in her graduating class. Contributing to this explanation is the aggregation of male athletes, in that they may be admitted with lower GPAs in exchange for their experience on the field (or ice), while women athletes are expected to excel in both the classroom and the game. These explanations point towards a level of institutional gender discrimination within the admissions office rather than within the university as a whole, but it is still worrisome to consider.

Finally, it is possible that the sample of University of Denver students is not representative of a larger population of undergraduate students: male students at the University of Denver might be missing some of their most successful peers. Considering that the majority of college students attend a university within 100 miles of their hometown (Mattern & Wyatt, 2009), men and women choose to pursue different career paths and majors, and women outnumber men 1.15 times at the University of Denver, it is possible that while the brightest women in Colorado may indeed choose to attend to attend DU, their brightest male counterparts may VOLUME 7

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© Great Degree (flickr)

choose to attend universities tailored for their specific interests, such as the Air Force Academy, with 3 times more men than women attendees (United States Air Force Academy, 2017), or the School of Mines, with 2.5 times more men than women fulltime students enrolled in 2016 (Colorado, 2017).

Women might see a greater advantage in attending a university like DU with a wide variety of course offerings, even if their specialty lies in historically male occupied majors in the STEM fields, while men may be trapped by a sort of “tunnel vision” in which they solely wish to focus on the academic interest of their choice, with little regard for the success or availability of other programs at their

The results of this study point toward a greater degree of equality in higher education between men and women in the United States, perhaps a byproduct of Title IX or even a broader pattern of educational maturity.

institution. The Air Force Academy’s website proudly boasts the fact that 100% of graduates earn a Bachelor of Science degree, with 48% dabbling in social sciences and a mere 5% in humanities. While any particular university might see a domination of women graduating with Latin honors over time, these results could be skewed by majority-male “specialty universities” that attract different crowds, offering academic programs dominated by a certain gender, from the same pool of college-ready students. Therefore, these results might not be a sheer demonstration of reduced gender discrimination at the University of Denver but rather point towards a 42

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pattern of gender-based differences in the design of school choice and gendered recruitment tactics on behalf of speciality schools.

V. CONCLUSION This research sought to explain the relationship between gender and graduating with Latin honors over the course of a 55-year time period at the University of Denver. Utilizing graduation data from each decade, the researchers were able to code every undergraduate student from 1960 to 2015, focusing on their gender and degree type.

The results illustrate that women outperform men in graduating with Latin honors across the entire time span, increasingly separating themselves since 2000.

By only analyzing the data for the first year in each decade (excluding the two samples from 2010 and 2015), the researchers were unable to utilize real-time current events to account for differences in the composition of changes to gender and thus were required to interpolate meaning from one decade as representative of the whole, even if one year in the data set was an anomaly. For example, half of a decade could have seen a significant drop in the number of women graduating with Latin honors, while the latter half illustrated a drastic increase: our data only interprets the first year of every decade, and would not account for such differences. With unlimited time, one might consider repeating the study by analyzing graduation programs from each year over the time span, with 55 different sets of data rather than only the seven that were used in this research. This would allow for analysis of current events in relation to Latin honors over time, as well as a more in-depth exploration of patterns over time. Furthermore, with unlimited time and funding, it would be necessary

Š Jeremy Wilburn

to further research the speculations presented in the discussion section, supplemented with peer-reviewed research and professional opinions from physiological development and gender studies experts.

The results of this study point toward a greater degree of equality in higher education between men and women in the United States, perhaps a byproduct of Title IX or even a broader pattern of educational maturity. In order to continue exploring whether this sample is representative of a larger population, it would be necessary to apply the same research methods to varying universities across the country, perhaps further illustrating the ways in which women are distinguishing themselves

as more than academically qualified for positions of employment following graduation and perhaps simply worthy of equal pay for equal (and better) qualification.

ENDNOTES

1. The current study emerged out of a class research project at the University of Denver.

As a group, students in the class were asked to collect and code data from graduation programs at DU, yet the conclusions and analysis of the data are solely the responsibility of the author.

2. See Appendix A for details on how each variable was coded.

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© COD Newsroom

APPENDIX A

Coding Scheme • Column A: Name of Researcher • Column B: Graduation Year • Column C: Name of Graduate (as typed in program) • Column D: Gender of Graduate • 0 = Female • 1 = Male • 99 = Cannot Determine • Gender cannot be determined if: Gender is not obvious AND (1) none of the following websites include the name; OR (2) multiple websites include the name, but the websites disagree regarding gender.

• Websites • A: http://genderchecker.com/ • B: https://gender-api.com/ • C: http://www.genderguesser.com/ • Column E: Did Determination of Gender Require Web Search • 0 = No • 1 = Yes • Column F: Open ended—If determination of gender required web search then describe (example: websites A,B, and C agree that Saud is male name) • Column G: Degree • 1 = Bachelor of Art • 2 = Bachelor of Fine Arts • 3 = Bachelor of Science • 4 = Bachelor of Science in Chemistry • 5 = Bachelor of Science in Physics • 6 = Bachelor of Science in Nursing • 7 = Bachelor of Science in Nursing Education • 8 = Bachelor of Music • 9 = Bachelor of Music Education • 10 = Bachelor of Science in Business Administration • 11 = Bachelor of Business Administration • 12 = Bachelor of Science in Accounting • 13 = Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering • 14 = Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering • 15 = Bachelor of Science in Electrical Engineering • 16 = Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering • 17 = Bachelor of Science in Computer Engineering • 18 = Bachelor of Science in Animal Technology • Column H: Latin honors • 0 = None • 1 = cum laude • 2 = magna cum laude • 3 = summa cum laude

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© LP Picard

REFERENCES Arlin, M., & Brody, R. (1976). Effects of spatial presentation and blocking on organization and verbal recall at three grade levels. Developmental Psychology, 12(2), 113–118. doi: 10.1037/0012–1649.12.2.113

Colorado School of Mines. (2017). Common Data Set. Inside Mines, Colorado School of Mines. Retrieved from http:// inside.mines.edu/UserFiles/File/president/IR/CommonDataSet/CDS17.pdf

Ferragut, M., Blanca, M. J., & Ortiz-Tallo, M. (2013). Psychological values as protective factors against sexist attitudes in preadolescents. Psicothema, 25, 38–42. doi: 10.7334/psicothema2012.85

—. (2014). Psychological virtues during adolescence: A longitudinal study of gender differences. European Journal of Developmental Psychology, 11(5), 521–531. doi: 10.1080/17405629.2013.876403

Grafstein, R. R. (1984). Sex differences in cognitive functioning. Dissertation Abstracts International, 45(10), 3334B-3335B.

Karris, M. A. (2009). Character strengths and well-being in a college sample. Dissertation Abstracts International: Section B: The Sciences and Engineering, 69–70, 7813.

Maccoby, E. E., & Jacklin, C. N. (1974). The psychology of sex differences. Stanford CA: Stanford University Press.

Mattern, K., & Wyatt, J. N. (2009). Student choice of college: How far do students go for an education? Journal of College Admission, 203, 18–29. Retrieved from http://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ838811.pdf

Shoshani, A., & Slone, M. (2012). Middle school transition from the strengths perspective: Young adolescents’ character

strengths, subjective well-being, and school adjustment. Journal of Happiness Studies, 14(4), 1163-1181. doi: https://

doi.org/10.1007/s10902-012-9374-y

United States Air Force Academy. (2017). Infographic. United States Air Force Academy. Retrieved from https://www. usafa.edu/app/uploads/USAFA-Infographic-2017.jpg

University of Denver Registrar. (2009). “Quarterly undergraduate GPAs since 1980.” University of Denver. Retrieved from http://www.du.edu/registrar/media/documents/gradetrend.pdf

The Wage Gap: The Who, How, Why, and What to Do. (September 2016). National Women’s Law Center. Workplace Justice, 1–5. Retrieved from https://nwlc.org/resources/the-wage-gap-the-who-how-why-and-what-to-do/

Opening image on page 38 © Cosma (Shutterstock)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

image provided by author

Danielle Trujillo is a senior political science and criminology double major here at DU. Currently, she is in the process of applying to law school and hopes to become a criminal prosecutor.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR This work is an edited version of a unique assignment from Sociological Imagination and Inquiry, better known as statistics for criminology and sociology majors. In order to put our new knowledge to the test, students were assigned a class project that served as the basis for further statistical analysis using a real-world example. This class, in particular, would explore the relationship between gender and graduation with Latin Honors over time at the University of Denver. In groups of four, classmates were assigned graduation manuals from the decades 1960 to 2015, totaling six groups. Within groups, members self-assigned certain degrees and were responsible for transposing data on the year, name, gender, degree-type, and whether the graduate achieved Latin Honors and to what extent. At the end of the quarter, the professor combined all of the groups’ data and walked the students through performing the statistical analyses necessary for exploring the relationship between gender and Latin Honors. Each student was tasked with writing a final paper summarizing the purpose, method, and results of the study; information included in the discussion and conclusion is purely of my own synthesis.

It would be inappropriate to dismiss the hard work that my fellow classmates contributed in collecting and coding the data necessary for completing the following research, and I wish to extend my sincere gratitude for the painstaking manual labor that was required of us in order to make these interesting findings. For sake of clarity, any references to “we” or “the researchers” should reflect the structure of the study, while ideas and sources discussed beyond the research’s methodology and findings are my own. Finally, I would like to thank our professor for the unique opportunity to explore such a prominent structural pattern in the field of higher education and for the wherewithal to make this research happen—your contribution to the University’s introspection has not gone unnoticed.

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As He Lay Dying by

Max Rosenblatt

WRIT 1122 Academic Writing & Rhetoric | Professor Kamila Kinyon

LODGED IN THE NORTHERN TIP OF MISSISSIPPI IS THE dull, little town of Oxford. Sporting a football stadium attached to a university and recently built red-bricked buildings designed to look as though they have stood for a century, Oxford represents much of what I hate about the culture of the southern United States. The town neglects its true culture for one that has been forced. Many quiet European towns, like Trieste in the north of Italy, show pride in their history. The buildings of Trieste that closely line the streets and the coast of the gulf stand mostly uniform, with the exception of the few flaws developed by age and by being built with hand carved stone.

Visitors to the small hilly town on the border of Slovenia are left in a romantic spirit by the structures that act as a physical representation of the town’s history.

When viewing any building in Trieste, one can assume that it has remained largely unchanged in the hundreds of years it has stood and through the millions of eyes that have looked at it. Similarly, cities undergoing wild economic expansions, such as Doha in the small peninsula country of Qatar, use fashionable architecture to display their newfound wealth. In Doha, buildings, several dozen stories in height and made principally of glass, sprout from the desert like malformed chess pieces. Visitors find themselves engaged in viewing a culture at the height of its history. Some of the world’s great cities are VOLUME 7

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(left & right) © fasthorses (Shutterstock)

able to mix the old and the new in a style that creates character and represents a genuine evolution of culture. London, for example, combines the past and the present in a pleasing way. The modernist architecture stylings of buildings like the Gherkin and the Leadenhall Building sit comfortably in the same skyline as the Gothic architectural wonders of the Tower and the Houses of Parliament. By contrast, Oxford neglects both its past and present, choosing instead to impose a fake culture.

It was genuine, and it was American; however, the great home of the great writer has been turned into a theme park of sorts. Now the home of Faulkner is a place for college kids to throw Frisbees and go jogging.

Few buildings in Oxford are older than a few dozen years. These new structures, rather than being designed with the present in mind, are built in an outdated style. The red brick buildings, with white painted signs advertising themselves as “general stores,” that line the main streets leave viewers empty, as they provide no history. They are not the source of the collective image of the great southern town; rather, they take from that image to provide for the expectations of the visitor. No one leaves Oxford with their minds broadened. The town was not designed with the intention of providing visitors with new thoughts but with the intention of providing convenient thoughts.

What history the town of Oxford, Mississippi once had has been bastardized. The home of William Faulkner—the great American writer—once 48

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represented his essence: rugged and imperfect, hidden away from the public with a mask of forest. It was genuine, and it was American; however, the great home of the great writer has been turned into a theme park of sorts. Now the home of Faulkner is a place for college kids to throw Frisbees and go jogging.

The main road that cuts through the square in Oxford leads to the town hall. The Queen Annestyle architecture furthers the feeling of this town existing in some strange film: a modern revival of the 80’s revival of the 50’s. It was built for the nostalgia of football fans who grew up watching F Troop. The town square defies every essence of Americana that William Faulkner portrayed. It is not rugged or imperfect, and it certainly isn’t genuine. It acts more as a matte painting on a soundstage during the filming of a movie, and visitors are simply extras, acting as though they came from some other time.

These feelings of disconnect from reality that one may have when walking through the Oxford town square are quickly broken by the suburban sprawl surrounding and constricting the fancy movie set. And, just a bit further from the town square, beyond the suburbs, lie those bits of land that have yet to be fully urbanized. They hang on to the last traces of the town’s rural origin. Where once there were dense woods on these lands, most of the beech, cryllia, and cypress have been cut down, and the clusters still standing have had their densities shaped into convenient patches, built in preparation for the expanding suburbs. Occasionally sitting in the patches of deforested grasslands, one may see a farm, but more often one will see a Holiday Inn or a Super 8.

Outside of his room in one of these chain hotels, sturdy and stout Timmy O’Tiernan stood

in, he gave us a friendly wave and called us over. For the first time, I could properly view Timmy’s face.

He had a stately appearance with a keen Irish nose and high forehead. He looked like Ernest Hemingway, but more properly put together. Sitting next to him was a tall, narrow woman with a pale face. She wore a little too much makeup, adding some years.

Timmy only referred to this woman as “Ol’Ail.” Timmy did not wear a ring on his finger, nor did Ol’Ail, so my assumption was that they were not married.

Ol’Ail looked at us with a friendly face and asked Timmy who we were.

“These are the two boys that caught me out in the hall. They’re off to the big house on the hill,” he told her.

“How nice,” said Ol’Ail, smiling into her coffee.

For the next hour, Timmy lectured us on his eagle-eyed philosophies. He gave us a comprehensive history of Ireland and told us of his theories on the works of James Joyce and Maurice Walsh. For the hour, no one spoke but Timmy.

Taking a break from his lecturing, Timmy sipped some coffee. Aaron asked him how long he had been staying in Oxford.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s been at least a couple of weeks,” he replied.

“How could you possibly stay in a town like this for a couple of weeks?” I asked. “There’s nothing here but a football stadium and a Holiday Inn.” Timmy looked at me. For the first time since I had met him, he didn’t have a smile on his face.

“You’re an idiot, boy,” he said.

© Roger Smith

with nothing on but a towel around his waist, a golden crucifix around his neck and a face covered in shaving lather. He held up his loose-fitting towel with his left hand, and his right hand held a disposable razor. Timmy, for reasons known only to him, decided that the best place for him to take a shave was in the hotel corridor. Timmy is a man of little shame, and when he was seen half naked by me and my close friend Aaron, he gave us a welcoming smile.

“Beautiful Sunday, boys! Deinceps in lumen Deo amabiles fratres,” said Timmy.

My words were taken by my embarrassment.

Seeing a half-naked man seemingly so comfortable with his appearance removed from my mind any possible replies. I could not decide if I should stare at him or smile at the floor and pretend there was nothing odd in what I was seeing.

Aaron gave a passive, “yes, yes,” and a smile.

Timmy shuffled closer to us, careful not to let the towel around his waist slip.

“You boys in town to watch the football?”

Timmy asked.

“No, we’re off to Rowan Oak,” I replied after composing myself, “and then we’re leaving.” In an attempt to get any amount of information out of Timmy as to why he was shaving in a hotel corridor, I asked how he was able to shave without a mirror or water.

“Viam inveniam aut faciam,” Timmy replied.

An hour or so after our first encounter with Timmy, Aaron and I spotted him again sitting at the bar of a breakfast place. When he saw us walk

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© BHammond (Shutterstock)

William Faulkner’s home lies on a hill just west of the main section of the University of Mississippi’s campus. The road leading to the base of the property that Faulkner’s home lies on is populated mostly by students. The sight of these college kids piqued my interest. I was angry that the people who were so fortunate to share the same land as Faulkner likely knew little of who he was.

My complaints of the town attempting to impose a fake culture were unfounded. Rather, it was me attempting to impose a fake culture on it.

Rowan Oak is only accessible by a short hike through a small wooded area. Aaron and I had come to Oxford in the height of summer. It was midday, and the sun was shining through the humidity. The trees, however, kept the sun from becoming too intolerable. The end of the hike leads to a stone pathway up to the great writer’s house.

On either side of the stone pathway is a shield of trees. The house itself is modest, almost rundown.

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At the point of walking up to the house, I felt some of my anger begin to bubble away. I recognized a respect that the caretakers had for the home. It was not restored to make it look new and unused. It was maintained in its state of imperfection. The white paint that covered the house was aged and faded by decades of wind and rain. There were splinters sticking unattractively out of the wood siding and porch, and there were cracks in the steps leading up to the patio. As I looked at the details of the house, all of the anger that I had once had towards the town of Oxford shifted to appreciation for those who cared to preserve the home of the great writer.

The quarter of Oxford that caters to football fans and students is dull and fake, but I could not suggest that the whole of the town was built in rejection of its true history. The shell of Oxford, composed of the red-bricked buildings and the football stadium, is brittle. It breaks away to a core preserved with the greatest care. The land of William Faulkner is not dead, as I had supposed. It exists with his pneuma breathing into all who see it. My complaints of the town attempting to impose a fake culture were unfounded. Rather, it was me attempting to impose a fake culture on it. The truth came that I knew little of the Old Man.

My name is Max Rosenblatt. I am a second year undergraduate student at DU, pursuing a degree in English literature and French. I enjoy reading the works of P.G. Woodhouse and John Updike, but my interest in writing stems from a short surrealist radio piece

by Chris Morris titled “Living Outside.”

Additionally, the second part of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury has long been a source of inspiration. I found these pieces at a young age, and they have never left my mind.

image provided by author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR I view this piece as one I created in a style I would never again choose to use. I wrote it for my WRIT 1122 class during the winter quarter of last year. We were assigned to write a travel piece. In trying to find some meaning in a strange encounter, I developed a voice in my writing that did not properly represent my view. I present myself in this piece as someone mean spirited and arrogant, but who undergoes a shift in thought. In initial drafts, my shift was greater than what is shown in the final piece; however, I still feel the contents are feigned and slightly embarrassing. That said, the opinions expressed are very much my own, though the voice I used may not properly represent me.

The enjoyment that I received from writing this piece, however, came from recalling the works of William Faulkner throughout.

The subject of the piece is Rowan Oak, Faulkner’s former home, and the style closely follows Quentin’s section in the Sound and the Fury. Though my story does not end as tragically as Quentin’s, I was inspired by the musings that constitute his chapter; therefore, I decide to structure my piece around my musings. I also placed other minor allusions to Faulkner’s works that a keen reader may pick up on.

I hope that readers of this piece will gain what I gained from writing it, which is a closeness to William Faulkner. The process of writing required me to review much of his work, and I hope that after reading this piece some will feel compelled to revisit his work as well.

Opening image on page 47 © JR P (flickr.com)

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A R elativistic A pproach to Hyperreality in Contemporary A rt

by

Sam Alperin

WRIT 1733 Honors Writing | Professor Shawn Alfrey

299792458 M/S THE FOLLOWING WORK COMES IN TWO PARTS. THE FIRST presents a theoretical framework linking multiple perceptions of reality through relativistic motion, with the goal of elucidating the idea of the hyperreal as a single perceivable reality among other perceivable realities. The construction of this framework involves placing theories of time and space, as developed by both critical and mathematical theorists, into a single dialogue. In the second part of this work, I apply this framework to specific works of visual art, starting with the contemporary film Thelma and Louise, in which motion slows the experience of time. I then look at the work of cinematic pioneer Eadweard Muybridge, whose interest was to use early motion picture techniques to visualize the stoppage of motion. Finally, I analyze motion as an artistic tool within a contemporary photo series. Thus, we take a journey such that through motion we find a sense of stillness, and in stills we find a sense of motion.

24 FPS

“So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”

T.S. Eliot, “East Coker”

Time is what connects one reality to another. We are young and then, in time, become old. The grass in spring is green and then, in 52

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observer, and that the basic axioms needed to construct arithmetic hold. From these Einstein proves that neither time nor space are rigid structures.

Specifically, when an observer is in motion, she distends in relation to that which does not move.

She observes time move more slowly. The corollary to this result is that two events, occurring simultaneously according to one observer, occur sequentially according to someone in another reference frame. This is to say that, mathematically, the state of reality itself depends on that of the observer.

Of course, at no earthly speeds are the physical effects of relativity more than negligible. It is also worth noting that Einsteinian relativity has faced its share of philosophical critiques. However, the existence of the theory within the common consciousness allows us to study it as an influence on artists’ understanding of time. Even the theory’s most famous detractor, Henri Bergson, agreed that time and space are relative; his problem with the theory was that in it time could exist without motion (Canales). To Bergson, time was even more relative than in Einsteinian relativity, only existing as a psychological construct to help wrap the mind around the continual evolution of reality we call movement. Thus, regardless of whether the Western artist was more influenced by the ideas of Einsteinian or Bergsonian relativity, she conceives of realities as being linked through dynamic evolutions, through movement.

If movement is the connector between realities, its extreme is speed. As per Einstein, at speed our experience of time and space shift. As an object moves faster, space extends and time slows down.

Though the physical effect is immeasurably small

(left) © Henry Lawford (right) © Mister_Jack (flickr)

time, becomes yellow. The raindrop is born in the sky and only in time becomes terrestrial. Each of these states is as real as the next, whether existing sequentially or existing simultaneously in our present consciousness in the form of perceived memory.

It is only through time that we can observe more than one reality: to see all of a man’s face, we must look upon one side and then upon the other. Our being constrained to observe reality from a single frame of reference at a time was of particular interest to the Modernists, who are especially tied to the development of relativistic thought. In his paintings, Picasso fractures this constraint by showing faces as seen from all angles at once, demonstrating the perception of reality from one reference frame and simultaneously that from another. In another visual art form, we see still images flash on top of one another to move the first image to the last, to move the story from beginning to end, possibly to move the viewer from one state to another. The importance of an observer’s reference frame regarding possible realities, and especially in regard to the distortion of time and space, has become especially emblematic of Modernist art, as in the writing of poets such as Williams and Eliot, and in the paintings of the Cubists, Dadaists, and Futurists (Dijkstra; Korg). Philosophers such as Bergson and Baudrillard have struggled with this issue as well (Canales; Baudrillard), as have mathematicians and scientists such as Minkowksi, Einstein, and Wheeler (Misner et al.; Einstein, Lorentz et al.).

In his seminal 1905 paper, Einstein developed his theory from the assumptions that the universe has a maximum speed, that the laws governing the structure of reality must be the same for any

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© alice-photo (Shutterstock)

at the speed of the body, given the speed of the mind, the psychological effect can be felt quite easily. From within a car speeding across the landscape, does the expanse not blur into an even purer visual form of the infinite? Does time not slow as well? In his work titled America, the contemporary philosopher Jean Baudrillard writes of speed in terms of a perceived shift in both time and space.

To him, speed is not only associated with a change in the perception of space, which he calls the “extenuation of forms” (7). To him, speed is characterized by a “rever[sion] to immobility” (7). One can thus become still through motion: it is through

From within a car speeding across the landscape, does the expanse not blur into an even purer visual form of the infinite? Does time not slow as well?

motion that our perception of time is modified, even stopped.

The idea that one can move such that speed becomes stillness is especially powerful in the introduction of the hyperreal. Perhaps it is no surprise, then, that Baudrillard is most famous not for his work in motion itself but for his work regarding hyperreality. The hyperreal describes the perception of a thing as being inseparable, even more real, than the thing itself. Life becomes indistinguishable from the mere image of life and is thus reduced to simulacrum. As described by Baudrillard, a visit to New York is indistinguishable from what a visit to the image of the visitor’s preconception of New York represents (23). A natural extension of this idea is to say that the image of art as art becomes 54

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indistinguishable from the art itself. Thus the Modernists and Postmodernists draw attention to the medium as a part of the art: to use the medium to approximate the perception of reality is to sculpt mere simulacra, while the embrace of the medium as part of the art or as the entirety of the art is to present a reality that is not the mere approximation of anything.

0 KM/H

Vast and gray, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and gray, and— […]

—my head is in the air but who am I…?

And amazed my heart leaps At the thought of love vast and gray yearning silently over me.

—William Carlos Williams, “The Desolate Field,” 151

We now apply the previously developed theory of relativistic perception to specific examples of visual art, focusing on the use of motion as the connector of multiple realities, especially with that of hyperreality.

We begin with Ridley Scott’s 1991 film Thelma and Louise. The film follows the emotional liberation of the title characters as they run from the law through the desert in their car. Near the end of the film is a long shot of Thelma watching her rear view mirror. The shot allows us to see two separate forms: her view of the desert melting into horizontal streaks and her view of the reflection of mountainous greenery behind her. The contrast is both stark and layered: horizontal streaks

suggests the observer exists in all of space and time.

In Thelma and Louise, the characters fly through a desert that becomes horizontality itself, simultaneously observing memories of a past existence in which both felt the need to conform to social constructions. Here, motion, both physical and symbolized, is presented as the connector between the reality of the characters’ lives as naked canvases free of “our civilized humours” and the hyperreal existence of their pasts.

The motion presented here is not merely used as the link between a series of geographic waypoints.

The sense of time within the film itself seems to shift while Thelma looks in the mirror. The scene lasts an uncomfortably long time, but eventually It is movement that becomes the only remaining connector between her essence and the hyperreal image of a life she leaves.

Thelma turns her gaze from the mirror and into the blur painting the surface of the space immediately around her. It is as though we are watching her realizing that the mountain behind her is not actually a mountain, but a reflection of a mountain seen on the surface of the mirror. The viewer watches the transition within the character’s consciousness in which the place is reduced to the image of the place. It is movement that becomes the only remaining connector between her essence and the hyperreal image of a life she leaves.

© Alan Levine

against vertical mountains, movement against stillness, now against before, foliage against sandstone. Notably, Baudrillard writes of the desert as “an ecstatic critique of culture, an ecstatic form of disappearance. The grandeur of deserts derives from their being, in their aridity, the negative of the earth’s surface and of our civilized humours” (5-6). If the desert is a naked earth devoid of human constructions, the forest is an earth masked by those constructions, and thus the image of the woods in the mirror can be interpreted to represent the hyperreality that the characters have left. Outside of the desert, Thelma and Louise lived banal existences as, respectively, an emotionally abused housewife and a bored diner waitress; in the desert, they were stripped to their core selves, not immoral but also without any regard for cultural norms. In one scene, Louise sees a judgmental-looking old woman watching her through a window of a gas station restaurant, automatically reaches for her lipstick, but then pauses and throws the stick out of the car. In another scene, Thelma, with the help of a handgun, forces a police officer into the trunk of his cruiser to avoid arrest. In the desert, practicality and lawlessness prevail.

Further, according to Baudrillard, the desert washes extend into a vanishing point that is so distended by the horizontality of the place that it becomes the horizon itself. In the desert, all of space and all of time are present. Recall the contrasting forms shown in the mirror scene. The vertical against the horizontal is especially resonant.

The image of a place becoming the horizon itself

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© Boston Public Library

Title: Animal locomotion. Plate 755 Volume: Vol. XI. : Wild Animals and Birds.

Creator: Muybridge, Eadweard, 1830-1904 Copyright Date: 1887

Temporal disorientation is impossible to ignore in the film, in which, over the course of three days on the run, the viewer sees at least a week’s worth of sunsets and sunrises. This stretching of the perceived timeline due to the speed of the observer is similar to the effect known as time dilation within the relativity of Einstein. Through movement, the characters have not only become one with the spatial expanse of “the negative of the earth’s surface,” but have left time as they had known it previously.

Time seems to bend in the film. This temporal distortion is most obvious when Louise stops the car in the dark to step out and watch the sun rise.

Suddenly there is no sound but that which is closer to the sound of ocean waves than that of desert wind. There is no motion for a few moments, and Louise watches the stars. The plot doesn’t move for a few moments either. The characters seem to have moved so fast as to stop time completely.

To echo Baudrillard, speed is a desire to revert to immobility.

As film scholar Devin Orgeron notes, although a film works by capturing stills and setting them into apparent motion, the goal of the medium’s inventor was to understand stillness through motion (67).

First famous for his still photography, Eadweard Muybridge is now remembered largely for having invented the zoopraxiscope, a disk of images that is spun in front of a light, projecting the appearance of a moving image. Interestingly, Muybridge’s goal was to figure out whether all of a horse’s feet leave the ground at full gallop, and as such the moving picture was invented to study a single instant. In this early medium, it was clear that the sensation of time depends on motion: the appearance of time within the moving image depends on how fast a viewer spins the disk. As the disk slows at the end, 56

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the motion of the image slows until a single, stationary frame is projected.

We return to the desert for the application of theory to still photographs. Our example is The Great Unreal, the 2009 photo series by Swiss duo Taiyo Onorato and Nico Krebs. The series consists of a few dozen photographs, all of which make clear that they are images. In one, we see a swath of desert with tires standing up as if in the act of rolling. Given that the land is unmistakably flat, it is clear the tires that were photographed were stationary and were artificially staked to the ground.

In the stationary medium of the photograph, the stationary tires become dynamic. Moreover, for the creation of an image of tires rolling along the flat desert floor, it is necessary for the medium to be stationary. This would not work in film, as the tires would have to be made to roll, and thus the conflict between the appearance of rolling and the impossibility of rolling would be sacrificed.

The use of the medium as a necessary element within the meaning of the artwork helps draw attention to the image as an object that exists separately from the objects that are photographed; the photograph is more than a still record of a past reality, but its own conception of reality as conceived by the artist. In the scene that the photographer sets up, there is no movement, and yet, in the photograph the scene is dominated by movement. The apparent paradox is solved only by accepting that the two scenes are completely different. Yet the artificial movement of the photograph is in some ways more real: to the viewer, the historical scene is inaccessible, leaving the image as the only reality that we can experience in connection with the scene. This is to say that the image of the thing can be more real than the thing itself. Here, too,

Dancing (fancy), 1885. From Animal Locomation.

Collotype (1830-1904) Stanford Museum

© rocor (flickr)

we have movement used as the connector between realities. In this case, movement connects a reality of motion with the reality of its partner and opposite, stillness.

In another still from the series, a desert scene is shown in which the only man-made objects are a series of interconnected telephone poles stretched into the horizon. The natural elements of the image are horizontal. The poles are exactly vertical.

Both are stationary and inert, one made of stone and blank sky and the other of dead wood. Baudrillard described a state of horizontality of time that exists in deserts and at speed, and described verticality as representing the essence of the stationary, the essence of our constructions.

Then what of the cables, which are diagonal and connect the vertical with the horizontal in the image? Are these not representative of some form of motion? The earth is inert, and the wooden pillars are inert, but the cables teem with that electricity that flows through them. It cannot be ignored that in the photograph all the midrange tones are used to represent the earth and sky, while the artificial objects are fully black. This suggests a depth to the earth that does not exist for the man-made objects.

And yet the two are connected. The frame is just large enough to show the cables plunging into the ground on the right. This suggests that the two layers of the image are not completely separable; it

is as if the natural is an objective reality, and the pillars are our own additions to that reality. And yet the two form one image, tied by the flow of electricity between them.

“What is new in America is the clash of the first level (primitive and wild) and the ‘third kind’ (the absolute simulacrum)” (Baudrillard 104). And yet there is something that connects them in our art.

This is motion, and it is itself the full realization of an ultimate reality. To borrow again from Williams, stillness exists “itself in the mass of its moveYet the artificial movement of the photograph is in some ways more real: to the viewer, the historical scene is inaccessible, leaving the image as the only reality that we can experience in connection with the scene. This is to say that the image of the thing can be more real than the thing itself.

ments” (11). Images presented from philosophy, mathematics, photography, and film have shown two contrasting images of reality, but both are images. The thing that transcends mere imagery is not the wild, nor is it the absolute simulacrum: it is movement. Surely it is fitting that the purest reality is that which does not exist in time or space alone, which can’t be experienced except through art.

Opening image on page 52 © Boston Public Library Title: Animal locomotion. Plate 640 | Volume: Vol. IX. Horses | Creator: Muybridge, Eadweard | Copyright Date: 1887

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WORKS CITED Baudrillard, Jean. America. Translated by Chris Turner, Verso, 1988.

Canales, Jimena. The Physicist and the Philosopher: Einstein, Bergson, and the Debate That Changed Our Understanding of Time. Princeton UP, 2015.

Dijkstra, Bram. Cubism, Stieglitz, and the Early Poetry of William Carlos Williams. Princeton UP, 1978.

Einstein, Albert. “Does the Inertia of a Body Depend upon Its Energy-Content.” Annalen der Physik, vol. 18, 1905, pp.

639–641.

---. “Relativity: The Special and the General Theory.” Space, vol. 80, no. 3, 1920, pp. 262.

Eliot, T. S. Four Quartets. Faber & Faber, 2009.

Korg, Jacob. “Modern Art Techniques in The Waste Land.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, vol. 18, no. 4, 1960, pp. 456–463.

Onorato, Taiyo, and Nico Krebs. The Great Unreal. Patrick Frey Editions, 2011.

Orgeron, Devin. Road Movies: From Muybridge and Méliès to Lynch and Kiarostami. Springer, 2007.

Thelma & Louise. Directed by Ridley Scott, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1991.

Williams, William Carlos. Collected Earlier Poems. New Directions Publishing, 1951.

---. Spring and All (Facsimile Edition). New Directions Publishing, 2011.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I graduated in June, having studied physics. I now work on research full time, studying the emergence of quantum-like behavior from classical optical chaos, among other things. I am originally from rural Oregon and am quite handy with a chainsaw or a tractor. When not working, I like to go on long walks or curl up somewhere—preferably a tent in the woods—and read. Lately it’s been a lot of Clarice Lispector and Yvves Bonnefoy.

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Spotlight on Student Editors

Tamarra Nelson is a senior majoring in English literature. Her favorite pastimes are writing in her journal, reading, and going to the movies.

Rachel Reidenbaugh is a senior theater and English major who spends her free time

memorizing IMDB pages and listening to the Beach Boys. She enjoys movies, poetry, southern gothic fiction, and John Hughes.

Max Rosenblatt is a second year undergraduate student at DU, pursuing a degree in English

literature and French. He enjoys reading the works of P.G. Woodhouse and John Updike, but his interest in writing stems from a short surrealist radio piece by Chris Morris titled “Living Outside.”

Maggie Sava is an undergraduate art history and English major who, unfortunately for her

friends, excels at puns. She is currently building a fortress of books in which she can one day live. She will find any excuse to go to a museum, especially if it involves a visit to the planetarium. If she was not here at DU, she would be living out of her car on the beach.

Submit Your Work

We welcome not only essays and research papers but also scientific and business reports, creative nonfiction, multimodal projects, and more. If accepted for publication, your work will appear in the 2019 issue.

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: Texts may be submitted electronically (by students or by instructors on behalf of students, with their permission) to the Editorial Board at writlarge.du@gmail.com

by Friday June 8, 2018.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES: • Submissions must be the original, previously unpublished work of the authors (group submissions are also accepted).

• Authors must assume full responsibility for the accuracy and documentation of their submission, and a bibliography must be included, when appropriate.

• Authors selected for publication must agree to work with an editorial team (of faculty and students) throughout the Fall 2018 quarter and to participate in all editorial activities.

• Please limit each submission to 20 double-spaced pages or fewer.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS We are very grateful to Doug Hesse and the DU Writing Program for funding and supporting this project. We extend our thanks to the new members of our staff who have helped us expand and enhance this year’s publication: Chelsie Fincher, Tamarra Nelson, Rachel Reidenbaugh, Max Rosenblatt, and Maggie Sava.

2017–2018 EDITORIAL BOARD Faculty Editors: David Daniels, Megan Kelly, Heather Martin, Juli Parrish, LP Picard, and Libby Catching Student Editors: Tamarra Nelson, Rachel Reidenbaugh, Max Rosenblatt, and Maggie Sava Art Direction Assistant: Chelsie Fincher

Pg 1: © Chris Becker, www.flickr.com/photos/cbeck527/8755412132 | Pg 2: © Chris Becker, www.flickr.com/photos/cbeck527/9470575320 | Pg 3: © Ed J, www.flickr.com/photos/ed_j/11257586814 | Pg 4 (left): © Rawpixel.com, Shutterstock ID: 559237063 | Pg 4 (right): © Wavebreakmedia, Shutterstock ID: 458892505 | Pg 5: © duluoz cats, www.flickr.com/photos/duluoz_cats/3478364832 | Pg 6: © Lisitskiyfoto, Shutterstock ID: 675088465 | Pg 8: © Mike Clime, Shutterstock ID: 157337477 | Pg 9: © BILD LLC, Shutterstock ID: 551816554 | Pg 11: © Bureau of Land Management Alaska, www.flickr.com/photos/blmalaska/20332634546/ | Pg 12: © U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Headquarters, www.flickr.com/photos/usfwshq/5124077710/ | Pg 13: © Alaska Region U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, www.flickr.com/photos/usfws_alaska/32258529140/ | Pg 14: © Alaska Region U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, www.flickr.com/photos/usfws_alaska/31668628055/ | Pg 21: © Troutnut, Shutterstock ID: 392296903 | Pg 23: © Bob Clarke, www.flickr.com/photos/randompix/86513796/ | Pg 25: © Charlotte90T, www.flickr.com/photos/charlotte90t/11457454584/ | Pg 26 (left): © Kent Kanouse, www.flickr.com/photos/kkanouse/7593389332/ | Pg 27: © Jeffrey Beall, www. flickr.com/photos/denverjeffrey/36528145881/ | Pg 28: © ericncindy24, www.flickr.com/photos/26710280@N06/2548330840/ | Pg 29: © Ken Lund, https://www. flickr.com/photos/kenlund/15995131386/ | Pg 30 (clockwise from left): © Ashley Van Haeften, www.flickr.com/photos/wikimediacommons/16422148867/ | Pg 30: © el-toro, www.flickr.com/photos/modofodo/15589073220/ | Pg 30: © New York Public Library, Digital Library ID: f7231130-c534-012f-26ee-58d385a7bc3 | Pg 31 (from left): © United States Library of Congress, Digital ID: highsm.32548 | Pg 31: © United States Library of Congress, Digital ID highsm.32550 | Pg 31: © Beverly & Pack, www.flickr.com/photos/walkadog/3454428322/ | Pg 32: Public Domain, Denver Public Library | Pg 33: Public Domain, Denver Public Library | Pg 34 (left): © United States Library of Congress, Digital ID ggbain.15859 | Pg 34 (right): © Mary Hockenbery, www.flickr.com/photos/reddirtrose/112263275/ | Pg

35: Public Domain, General Records of the Department of Labor | Pg 36: © Jeffrey Beall, www.flickr.com/photos/denverjeffrey/35857247023/ | Pg 38: © Cosma, Shutterstock ID: 185075555 | Pg 39: © Shelia Sund, www.flickr.com/photos/sheila_sund/8720215124/ | Pg 41: © Will Folsom, www.flickr.com/photos/ willfolsom/5702550094/ | Pg 42: © Great Degree, www.flickr.com/photos/greatdegree/4606903397/ | Pg 43: © Jeremy Wilburn, www.flickr.com/photos/jeremywilburn/5429192194/ | Pg 44: © COD Newsroom, www.flickr.com/photos/codnewsroom/34435635270/ | Pg 47: © JR P, www.flickr.com/photos/ugardener/2390266492 | Pg 48: (left) © fasthorses, Shutterstock ID: 239175457 | Pg 48: (right) © fasthorses, Shutterstock ID: 325415156 | Pg 49: © Roger Smith, www. flickr.com/photos/rogersmith/5873607538/ | Pg 50: © BHammond, Shutterstock ID: 489279097 | Pg 52: © Boston Public Library, www.flickr.com/photos/boston_public_library/4328031668/ | Pg 53 (left): © Henry Lawford, www.flickr.com/photos/herry/3326501642/ | Pg 53 (right): © Mister_Jack, www.flickr.com/photos/machineman22/4822221580/ | Pg 54: © alice-photo, Shutterstock ID: 165005672 | Pg 55: © Alan Levine, www.flickr.com/photos/cogdog/4708291454/ | Pg 56: © Boston Public Library, www.flickr.com/photos/boston_public_library/4328168112/ | Pg 57: © rocor, www.flickr.com/photos/rocor/22152373511/ | Pg 58: © v.maradin, Shutterstock ID: 731485330 Cover Image: © Glenda Popielarski, www.Flickr.com/photos/98672157@N06 | Front Inside Cover Image: © Chris Becker, www.flickr.com/photos/ cbeck527/9467822157/ | Back Inside Cover Image: © Chris Becker, www.flickr.com/photos/cbeck527/8754284945/

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