City Creatures Retreat at the Indiana Dunes (Pictures and Random Thoughts)

A marsh within the Calumet River watershed in the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore
A marsh within the Calumet River watershed in the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore

I’ve never been invited to a writer’s retreat before (not to mention a writers and artists retreat), and despite long anticipation and careful planning for this one, I almost didn’t get to go to this one when my spouse took ill and the kids needed tending. Thank goodness for CHN retreat organizer and all-around problem-solver Gavin Van Horn’s wisdom and quick decision-making, as he called me up and said, “Bring the girls along.”

I’m glad I did, as we had a terrific time — and I’m grateful to Gavin’s wife Marcie, who generously and graciously volunteered to watch my children during the times when I was occupied with fellow participants in wonderful discussions about our forthcoming City Creatures project.

For me the retreat had a number of highlights. Some of them were formal, in the sense that they were on the planned agenda — like the splendid hike through the wetlands of the Great Calumet Marsh on Friday led by Ron and Joan Engel, who escorted us along some of their favorite biodiversity-rich trails in the Dunes back-country; the lovely reception hosted by the Engels at their beautiful home in Beverly Shores (which surely has the best home study/library I’ve ever seen); the delightful dinner at Sage restaurant in Chesterton; and the “soundwalk” excursion we took in Gary on the grounds of the Paul Douglas Environmental Learning Center at the western end of the National Lakeshore.

Joan and Ron Engel, with Steve Packard

But the less-scripted elements of the retreat held many delights, as well. I became pals with a conservationist and writer I much admire, Stephen Packard, who rode in my car from field site to field site, and delighted my children with his funny stories, endless questions, and brilliant bird call imitations. At one point on our way to the soundwalk field trip, I deliberately got us lost (no, really!) so I could listen to the end of a story that involved “mucking about” a salt marsh on Cape Cod; the ensuing delay was worth it. I met some old friends but also made a bunch of new ones among a group of immensely talented and utterly fascinating people. And I learned a lot about what our collective project is aiming for, and had time and encouragement to think about how my small contribution fits into the bigger picture.

Lea Schweitz holds an opossum mandible

My two girls, Lily (age 10) and Esmé (age 5), had fun cavorting with Gavin’s 5-year-old son Hawkins, and they got a kick out of our field hikes, too. During our marsh walk, we had  several great kid discoveries: Steve Sullivan found the mandible of an opossum; Steve Packard found some eggshell fragments, still soft and pliable, from a turtle; and we all admired a large beaver lodge and the abundant nearby evidence of busy-ness on the part of this intrepid wetland mammal and fellow water engineer.

On our Saturday morning hike, I was initially concerned that my chatterbox children would fill the “soundscape” with their songs, stories, and sisterly bickering and thus necessitate my hanging back from the group. Turns out I greatly underestimated them. Lily hiked ahead with the grown-ups, while Esmé and I lollygagged with the renowned naturalist and writer Joel Greenberg, who happily pointed out flowers and identified bird calls for us. Esmé got a nosebleed for no apparent reason, but rather than crying or complaining, she just asked me for tissues until it stopped, and kept trudging along behind Joel and looking at everything he noted.

At a rest stop on our soundwalk, listening to the marsh and woods

The best part of that wonderful hike was when we ascended a hill about two-thirds of the way along the circuitous trail we were following, and stopped for a long listen. Here in the Dunes there’s lot of sand, of course, and this summit we were on was like a big sandbox. As we naturally formed a circle to listen, observe, and talk quietly about what we were experiencing, the girls just played quietly in the sand.

We watched them, too, and I couldn’t help but think about how our project — about connecting with nature and, more specifically, the non-human animals within the urban and suburban environment of the Chicago region — is also, ultimately, about nurturing an ethic of stewardship and love of nature in our children.

Esmé holds a piece of turtle eggshell; Gavin shows another to Hawkins

It had been way too long since I had been to the Dunes. This was a splendid excuse to return to that special landscape, and to introduce my kids to some of its treasures. It was also an inspiring way to begin our work on City Creatures.

I’m looking forward to future gatherings with these new friends and colleagues. I wonder what critters, or the leavings thereof, we’ll come across on our ensuing explorations?

City Creatures Writer’s/Artist’s Retreat at the Indiana Dunes (Midstream Reflections)

There are many times when I give thanks for having the wonderful job of being a professor — and today is one such day. I’m writing this update from a motel room in Chesterton, Indiana, where I’m attending a writer’s/artist’s conference (with my two children in tow) sponsored by the Center for Humans and Nature, an environmental humanities organization which is leading the development of a book project / art exhibit scheduled for 2014 entitled City Creatures.

As a contributing author to this project, I’m lucky enough to be a part of this retreat to the amazing and inspiring landscape of the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, one of the most ecologically significant places in the Midwest and the closest national parkland to Chicago. Our goal is to think of ways in which humans relate to, connect with, and/or learn from non-human animals in the Chicago metro region — precisely the kind of “urban nature” questions my students and I have been grappling with the first two weeks of our summer humanities seminar on “Representations of the Urban Landscape.” Talk about a happy coincidence of timing!

Yesterday afternoon, before taking a leisurely hike in the Calumet River marshlands of the Dunes, I heard a remarkable presentation by Ron Engel, a theologian, social activist, writer, and conservationist who lives in the Dunes community of Beverly Shores with his wife, Joan — herself a gifted writer and fellow conservationist. For four decades, Ron and Joan have dedicated themselves to protecting the Dunes from further industrial/commercial encroachment, advocated for their continued conservation and restoration, and documented their historical and cultural significance to the region. Ron is the author of the well-received book, Sacred Sands: The Struggle for Community in the Indiana Dunes (1983), which is sadly out of print but available at local libraries.

Today we gather again for a morning of discussion, brainstorming, and essay planning — the goal of which is to create a book and accompanying art exhibit that explores our human relationships with and connections to the non-human animals we encounter in a variety of urban settings within the Chicago Region: backyards, parklands, industrial sites, rivers and lake shoreline, etc. Then we’ll take another hike through the rich Dunes landscape to learn more about the complex cultural and natural history of this place — and how they are intricately intertwined.

It’s good to meet people this way — interacting, conversing, exploring . . . all with a common goal in mind. Yes, we could’ve planned and brainstormed this project solely by email and conference call. But I’m glad the project’s organizers, Gavin Van Horn and David Aftandilian, set up this retreat — a rare opportunity for many of us to take time out from our busy lives and collaborate face to face in a deep and meaningful way.

Next week — pictures from the retreat!

Celebrating Sustainability at GR2012 in Joliet

This past Saturday, I attended GR2012, the 3rd annual Celebrating Sustainability festival in my hometown of Joliet, IL. The past couple of years I had attended with my family purely in the role of visitors to the festival’s original location at the Joliet Public Library / Rock Run Forest Preserve. We checked out the many green products and services among the many exhibits, played games, petted a menagerie of animals, and listened to live music.

RU students (Stephanie and Sean) hobnob with JJC students and alumni (Tiffany, Tori, and Antonio)

But the festival outgrew its site in only two years, so this year’s organizers moved it to more spacious grounds: the West Side campus of Joliet Junior College, which has a beautiful new student center as well as a picnic area near the site of a significant prairie restoration underway at the nation’s oldest community college. And this time, I came as a participant: along with SUST majors Sean Hattan and Stephanie Eisner, I ran an informational table among the dozens of exhibitors at GR2012 to meet and greet visitors and prospective students. And I gave a slideshow presentation entitled Sustainability in the Suburbs – GR2012 19 May 2012 (pdf) during the day’s program of public lectures.

For more on the day’s proceedings, check out this post on the Schaumburg’s Sustainable Future blog.

Last Workday this Spring at Chicago Lights Urban Farm

Last Wednesday, May 2nd, was a bittersweet day in my SUST 350 Service & Sustainability class at RU. Since March 21st we had convened every Wednesday afternoon at 3pm at the Chicago Lights Urban Farm in the Cabrini-Green neighborhood of Chicago. For our first hour we’d discuss the week’s readings and then have student-led “farm reports” on urban agricultural operations across the US. Then we’d put away our books and grab some tools to work from 4-5:30pm doing whatever farm chores needed doing that day. During this latter part of our class sessions, we labored side by side with several Growing Power staff and the neighborhood teens who work as Youth Corps job interns here during the school year and summer.

Front, L to R: Maria, Beeka, Allison, Natasha. 2nd row: Brian, Lauralyn, Mary, Alex, Eleanor, Josh, Steph,Toni. Back row: Terry, Joe, Sean, Steven, Conor, Martinez, Jonathan. Not pictured from RU: Keith and Mike (Photo by M. Bryson)

In the process we began to get the rudiments of a working knowledge of the half-acre urban farm here at the corner of Hudson Street and Chicago Avenue in this rapidly gentrifying neighborhood that is still home to many poor and working-class citizens, despite the demolition of most of the Cabrini-Green public housing in the area. (The original Cabrini rowhouses remain just to the north of the farm, though their fate is uncertain.) We learned how to turn over and then utilize compost; appreciated the basic mechanisms of vermicomposting (using worms to break down organic waste and produce nutrient-rich soil consisting of worm castings); mastered the art of handling a power drill; and depended upon the value of teamwork when it comes to weeding, hoeing, raking, shoveling and hauling wood chips, repairing compost bins, and picking up litter.

The Compost Crew (for that day, anyway) — L to R: Josh, Sean, Mike, and Joe (photo by A. Mayes)

The past couple of weeks, workers at the farm (including us) have been chipping away at a major construction project: a new hoop house to accompany the one now standing near the middle of the farm property.

Last week we made major strides toward that goal, as we helped finish the wooden foundation/frame of the structure and secured it to the ground. Some of us put together lengths of strong but lightweight aluminum poles (itself a simple yet tricky process to get right without injuring a finger), then cut them to length.

Brian Ellis, one of Growing Power’s urban farmers and a super-cool guy. Stick with this man and you’ll learn stuff!
Maria, Conor, and Lauralyn secure the two pieces of aluminium pipe for each of the hoops. This is tricky work getting those self-tapping metal screws into a rounded surface cleanly and securely! (photo by A. Mayes)
L to R: Alex, Brian, Eleanor, Lauralyn, Monique, Mike (in background), Terry, Conor, and Steven. You can see here how the pole comes out bent from the jig. (Photo by A. Mayes)

Finally, in the waning minutes of our semester in the late afternoon, we bent two of the poles using a special wooden jig in a well-choreographed ballet of pushing and steadying, and then mounted one of the hoops at the west end of the house. A great cheer went up when this happened, and I felt it a fitting moment on which to conclude our semester: for even as we enjoyed this sense of accomplishment, we knew that the job was far from done. As we said our goodbyes and dispersed in separate directions back to school or home, our Growing Power Youth Corps compatriots at the farm began taking over right where we left off.

Looking west at the site of the new hoop house, as we set the first pole. This is a fitting coda for our semester, suggesting future journeys and work yet to be completed. There’s something wonderful about making an arch at an urban farm in the middle of Chicago — the great 19th century urban center of what was then called the West, according to environmental historian William Cronon in his 1991 book “Nature’s Metropolis.” (Photo by A. Mayes)

That’s yet another great thing about this service learning experience: it doesn’t end here, even though our spring semester is nearly over. The Chicago Lights Urban Farm welcomes volunteers every Saturday from 10am to 4pm, and I know many of us will return to this friendly and welcoming spot to do some more work with our new friends. As for me, I’m already looking forward to setting up v2 of this course next spring, for it’s the hope of the Sustainability Studies program at Roosevelt to cultivate a long-term relationship with the Chicago Lights and Iron Street urban farms here in the City of Big Shoulders — now one of the great urban agricultural frontiers of North America.

Special thanks go to many people, including:

  • Natasha Holbert, director of the Chicago Lights Urban Farm, who was instrumental in the planning for SUST 350, and who provided valuable insights and enthusiastic guidance to us every step of the way;
  • Lauralyn Clausen (Education and Curriculum Coordinator and Youth Corps Co-Instructor) Brian Ellis (Youth Corps Co-Instructor), Malcolm Evans (Farm Assistant), and Laurel Simms (Chicago Production/Marketing Manager and Farm Educator) — the Growing Power urban farmers in Chicago who led our daily work sessions, imparted their knowledge, and made us feel welcome from the get-go;
  • The Youth Corps job interns (Deja, Henry, Ivory, Jonathan, Kyra, Monique, Quentin, Rayshard, Rayshaun, Sam, and Toni) with whom we worked, joked, and took some cool field trips to Milwaukee and the Chicago River;
  • Amy, our phenomenal tour guide at Growing Power’s Milwaukee farm site;
  • Erika Allen, director of Growing Power’s Chicago operations across the city and National Outreach Manager, whose visionary leadership is helping make Chicago a greener and healthier city;
  • The faculty and staff of Roosevelt University’s Mansfield Institute, who supported this course will a Transformational Service Learning grant;
  • And last but not least, my students who were curious enough to sign up for the inaugural section of this class, who worked hard inside and outside of the classroom from Week one through fourteen, and who had no problem handling worms or getting dirty (in fact, I think they rather enjoyed it!)

Here’s to a splendid growing season this summer and a record-breaking harvest next fall!

For an up-close look at our last workday at the farm this spring, check out this online photo album of our last workday (pictures by SUST major Allison Mayes and yours truly).

The Airport Nobody Wants or Needs

The Saturday before Earth Day, Jesse Jackson, Jr. and a contingent of political supporters rode down to the farmlands of eastern Will County to spade up a little dirt in a pious promotion of the ill-fated Great Imaginary (aka Peotone) Airport.

Given that the project has neither FAA approval nor the support of a single major airline, Jackson’s well-publicized pontifications were presumptuous — but not pointless, for they re-energized the hitherto dispirited airport opposition movement around Peotone, Beecher, and Monee, the small towns most affected by this ongoing fiasco.

I drove out northeast of Peotone that Saturday in hopes of attending Jackson’s media stunt and the planned counter-demonstration by the longstanding grassroots organization Shut This Airport Nightmare Down (STAND). Turned out I was too late and missed them both.

IDOT's South Suburban Airport headquarters on Eagle Lake Road in eastern Will County, aka "The Compound" (M. Bryson)

But after heading past the Illinois Department of Transportation’s heavily-fenced airport headquarters on Eagle Lake Road west of State Route 50 — a place derisively nicknamed “The Compound” by locals for its quasi-military installation appearance — I ran into some folks who helpfully filled me in on the day’s proceedings.

Robert Ogalla, a farmer whose wife Judy is the vice-president of STAND, grows corn, soybeans, and wheat on their picturesque farm along County Road 10. Back in 2003, the Ogallas received a commendation from the Will-South Cook Soil and Water Conservation District for their exemplary efforts to reduce soil erosion and polluting runoff on their property.

The Ogalla farm as seen from the south (M. Bryson)

Mr. Ogalla described the lively scene that had transpired earlier that day at the Compound, where over 400 STAND supporters had gathered peacefully to protest Jackson’s groundbreaking event and voice their many objections to the state’s relentless land-acquisition plans.

“This is some of the best farmland in the world,” Ogalla told me, gesturing toward his well-tended fields. “Those trees you see there on the horizon were planted many years ago as part of Illinois’ Conservation Reserve Program by my 101-year-old neighbor.”

He paused to let that sink in, then continued, “All this will be gone if the airport gets built. The irony of it is that no airline even wants it.”

I talk with Virginia Hamann and Rob Ogalla on 21 April 2012 (M. Bryson)

Another STAND member, Virginia Hamann of Peotone, drives a bus for the Peotone School District and helps her husband run a dairy farm located across the road from the proposed airport. “What gets me is the terrible waste of money all this is,” she said.

How wasteful, you might ask? Many of those fertile fields I admired that day already have been purchased by the state — to be precise, 2,471 acres at the cost of 34,014,383 taxpayer dollars — all without FAA approval of the project, naturally. Now, with willing sellers scarce and land values low, IDOT has condemned some local farmers’ property (like that of Vivian and Willis Bramstaedt) to close the deal on the remaining acreage within the Great Imaginary Airport’s nine-square-mile footprint.

When I asked Ogalla and Hamann how their neighbors were feeling about the airport issue these days, they estimated that a strong majority, perhaps 70-80 percent, now backed STAND’s opposition to the project.

Virginia and Rob hold up a STAND sign at Rob's farm (M. Bryson)

So here’s your silver lining. After several years of community demoralization in the face of a seemingly-unstoppable government juggernaut, the awakening provided by Jesse Jackson, Jr.’s grandstanding gambit has re-ignited grassroots opposition to one of the most foolhardy endeavors in Illinois history. Or so I can only hope.

A version of this article was published as my monthly op-ed column in the 3 May 2012 edition of the Joliet Herald-News. For more information from IDOT’s perspective, consult the official South Suburban Airport website. For deeper news and critical analysis, see the commentary and news reports on this blog as well as by WBEZ Chicago Public Radio and the Chicago Tribune for recent coverage of the political gamesmanship surrounding the Great Imaginary / Peotone / South Suburban / Abraham Lincoln National Airport.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind building an airport, too — but just a small one for balsa wood planes in my backyard in Joliet. No eminent domain proceedings by IDOT will be necessary in its construction.

Paddling Bubbly Creek: Water, Food, and Urban Ecology

This past Sunday, 29 April 2012, students from my SUST 350 Service & Sustainability class joined staff and student interns from Growing Power‘s Chicago Lights Urban Farm for a canoe trip on Bubbly Creek, aka the South Fork of the South Branch of the Chicago River. This was the second of two field trip experiences for RU undergrads and Growing Power Youth Corps job interns who have been working together in the Spring of 2012 at the Chicago Lights Urban Farm. (The first was a road trip to Growing Power’s original farm site on Milwaukee’s Northwest Side.)

Paddling south on Bubbly Creek (M. Bryson)

Led by Friends of the Chicago River, this outdoor adventure introduced RU undergrads and Cabrini-Green teens and young adults to river ecology, wastewater policy, Chicago history, and urban biodiversity — not to mention the no-less-important skills of teamwork and good paddling technique. Most of the day’s participants had limited to no canoeing experience prior to our adventure; but they learned quickly with the help of a pre-launch paddling lesson by our Friends of the Chicago River guides, and by the end of our 2.5 mile journey had proven themselves adept at handling a canoe on one of America’s most infamous urban waterways. Talk about baptism by fire . . . er, wastewater effluent!

This industrialized and heavily polluted channel on Chicago’s South Side got its name years ago from the methane gas that bubbled up from the bacterial decomposition of organic waste on the creek’s bottom. Bubbly Creek was the notorious dumping ground for the Chicago Stockyards for decades. Things were so bad in 1909 that a chicken was photographed walking across the sludgy surface of the river.

Paddling south on Bubbly Creek; to the right (west) are 34th Street and the Iron Street Farm (M. Bryson)

The South Fork’s revolting environmental history inspired me to take urban sustainability seminar students to the waterway as our capstone field trip back in May of 2009 — and I’ve been canoeing Bubbly Creek with my students ever since.

The mild spring weather, sluggish current, and lack of boat traffic made for exceptional paddling down the one-and-a-quarter-mile length of Bubbly Creek this past Sunday. Our view was one of arresting images and stark contrasts. Along some stretches, vegetation reclaimed the industrial riverbank. Elsewhere, pipes stuck out from concrete or steel embankments, water from area street-level drains trickling from their openings — a hint of the deluge that would ensue were it to rain. We floated slowly and quietly under massive railroad and highway bridges, the dim roar of traffic far above us.

Near the headwaters of Bubbly Creek; on our right is the massive Racine Avenue Pumping Station. Each of its eight pipes is 5 feet in diameter. This station pumps wastewater from this area of Chicago southwest to the MWRD's Stickney wastewater treatment plant -- the largest such facility in the world. In times of significant rainfall, these pumps reverse and pump untreated combined sewage into Bubbly Creek, where the water levels quickly rise three feet. (M. Bryson)

Visible evidence of pollution was everywhere — old plastic garbage bags hanging from trees; floating bottles and cans; the occasional used condom (nicknamed “Chicago River Whitefish” by jaded river veterans); and the infamous bubbles, still percolating up from the murky depths. At times the faint stench of sewage drifted over us.

Yet, we also saw encountered wildlife, including Canada geese, Mallard ducks, a juvenile red-tailed hawk, and a green heron (one of the three heron species native to Illinois). Tree swallows swooped over the water, hunting for insects, and red-winged blackbirds and white-throated sparrows sang lustily from the brush riverbanks. Although we didn’t see any that day, beavers are known to be active along the creek, despite its persistent pollution. Such observations provided a dramatic ecology lesson: while Bubbly Creek is still in rough shape, it has come a long way from its earlier environmental desecration.

A significant moments of our trip occurred as we paddled southward along an imposing, rusted metal retaining wall on the east bank of the river; to the west was a more vegetated riparian zone that ended at a chain link fence.

Malcolm, a longtime Growing Power Youth Corps intern on his first canoeing adventure, points to the Iron Street Farm with his paddle (M. Bryson)

The view itself was unremarkable, save for the fact that we knew what was on the other side of that fence, mostly hidden from view on the high bank: the Iron Street Farm, one of Growing Power’s urban farming operations in Chicago that occupies several acres of former industrial land just west of Bubbly Creek at the intersection of Iron and 34th Streets. With a large building that has been adapted and re-purposed for integrated indoor urban agriculture (aquaponics and vermicomposting) and a bike repair facility, as well as extensive grounds for several hoop houses and even more composting bins, Iron Street Farm represents a sophisticated 21st-century post-industrial refashioning of a 19th century industrial landscape.

Iron Street Farm, as seen from Bubbly Creek (M. Bryson)

And what of the connections between the water of the creek and the food growing enterprise along its west bank? They are many and various, as we discussed while “rafting up” our canoes at the southern terminus of Bubbly Creek, where we contemplated the urban ecology of stormwater runoff and combined sewage overflows while floating in the shadow of the massive Racine Avenue Pumping Station. Every drop of water that falls on the compost-enriched soil of Iron Street Farm not only is utilized by edible plants in food production, but also is diverted from the sewer system of the city, thus reducing the total amount of surface run-off that results (in times of sufficient precipitation) in the release of untreated sewage into Bubbly Creek and the many other channels of the Chicago Area Waterway System.

Hoop Houses at Iron Street Farm; Bubbly Creek is just past the fence to the right (M. Bryson)

Beyond this systematic analysis, though, was a more emotional revelation about urban waterways that I felt may have occurred, tacitly but undeniably, amongst us on our trip — one that runs counter to the fears of the uninitiated that scary creatures lurk in the deeps, or that urban rivers are degraded beyond reclamation. Given the chance to experience a river, up close and personal, people of all ages respond to its rough and imperfect charms.

If we can learn to love and value the likes of Bubbly Creek — if we can see that a channelized, polluted, and long-neglected waterway has the potential to become, well, a river again — then just about anything’s possible.

Ivory (foreground) and Deja, two of the Growing Power Youth Corps interns who work at the Chicago Lights Urban Farm (M. Bryson)
Our group combined folks from Roosevelt University's SUST 350 Service & Sustainability class, Growing Power staff and Youth Corps interns, and guides from Friends of the Chicago River (M. Bryson)

Want to see more? Check out these annotated slideshows of our RU-Growing Power canoe trip on Bubbly Creek as well as the Iron Street Farm.