One example of this is his agroforestry project, in which Enoch selected a section of campus affected by invasive plants. He conducted on-site assessments, communicated with those involved in managing the area, and developed a thoughtful plan grounded in best practices. His proposal also carefully considered feasibility, including time constraints, available resources, and site accessibility. 

Enoch came to Sterling with some prior experience in crop production and management, and he quickly distinguished himself through his enthusiasm for working with plants, attention to detail, organizational skills, passion for learning, and reliability. These qualities contributed to a highly successful farm work experience.

Through his work program, Enoch has taken on a wide range of responsibilities, including field work; developing and implementing a full-year crop production plan for the CSA program and campus kitchen; work task planning; co-worker supervision; on-call duties; and helping to facilitate planning meetings. He has held a student leadership position for two years and also joined the Farm Crew for a summer internship in the gardens. 

Among his many tasks, Enoch determined which crops鈥攁nd in what quantities鈥攚ould be ready for harvest each week, then harvested and prepared produce for timely distribution. These responsibilities required not only physical labor but also extensive organization, communication, and record-keeping to ensure the right vegetables reached the right place at the right time. He also helped supervise and direct a diverse crew of students, doing so with clear communication, mutual respect, and steady leadership鈥攁n approach rooted in the deep value he places on the people around him.

Above all, Enoch deeply values his teachers, his peers, and the broader Sterling community. That appreciation was on full display during a recent informal breakfast poll in Dunbar Dining Hall, when students and employees were asked, 鈥淲hich teams are playing in the Super Bowl?鈥� The (again, very informal!) results showed that only one student knew the matchup included the Patriots and the Seahawks, while seventeen students and employees could not name both teams. With a big grin, Enoch summed it up perfectly: 鈥淚 love this place so much. I love it. I love it here so much.鈥�

Throughout his time at Sterling, Enoch has consistently demonstrated enthusiasm, inquisitiveness, a sharp eye for detail, and the initiative to identify opportunities for improvement and lead meaningful change. Enoch is an exemplary Sterling student whose academic engagement, work ethic, and genuine care for community leave a lasting impact.

Dave Linck was my camping partner for thirteen Grassroots Project winter expeditions, and several other Short Course overnights.

My first experience with 鈥淒BL,鈥� as we called him, everyone had initialed nicknames on the vehicle sign-out board, was on a Short Course overnight. I had been bringing students from a Maryland-based high school for a couple of years and was a big supporter of the Academic Short Course in Outdoor Leadership. It was an extraordinary experience for the ninth- and tenth-graders in my class.

The attraction to the rigorous 21 day program was a mix of challenging weather and hands-on work: making backpacks out of hewn white ash, camping without tents, and building shelters with a tarp and sticks in the dead of winter. The Sterling School faculty took this seriously, but never themselves too seriously, and that came through immediately to my students. Although all faculty had other academic responsibilities, every one of them had a hand in the Short Courses.

Dave embodied that spirit perfectly. He had this combination of discipline, good humor, and quiet confidence that told you everything was going to be okay, even when it was snowing sideways and the fire wouldn鈥檛 light. After all, this was a guy whose office poster read, 鈥淩emember when the air was clean and sex was dirty.鈥�

For a couple of years, I鈥檇 drop my students off and drive back to the Eastern Shore, returning two weeks later to pick them up. Then, one winter, I think it was 1972, Steve Wright Short Course Director, convinced me to stay for the first overnight. I ended up camping with Dave on the east side of West Hill, above the Black River Valley. It was exactly seventeen degrees below zero. Dave said, 鈥淒on鈥檛 worry, it鈥檚 not twenty below.鈥� I survived, and I was hooked.

For me, Dave epitomized the professionalism of Sterling鈥檚 faculty. He grew up at West Point, earned a master鈥檚 degree in biology, loved nature, and had deep experience from his family camp on Raquette Lake in the Adirondacks, leading canoe trips through Quebec鈥檚 north country.

He got things done efficiently鈥攏o nonsense鈥攂ut with a keen sense of humor, especially around the campfire. We鈥檇 argue about what kind of firewood to use, joking about how our colleague Dave Brown probably had a much better fire going somewhere nearby.

Dave loved to burn junky wood when we first pulled into camp. I preferred to haul in the best bone-dry hard maple I could find. Dave, the ultimate conservationist, figured we should save the good stuff for future expeditions. Eventually, we reached a compromise: junky wood and coffee to start, then slightly better wood and orange Tang slush, and finally a solid cooking and drying out your boot liners fire before bed. That little ritual became part of every trip.

Dave had a habit of whistling as he moved between campfires, checking on students, chatting with faculty, making sure everything was under control. That whistle became a kind of reassurance. If you heard it in the dark, you knew everything was fine.

After dinner, when the student fires were quiet and the stars were out, Dave and I would talk about teaching, about Sterling, about life. Sometimes we鈥檇 solve all the world鈥檚 problems. Sometimes we鈥檇 just sit and watch the fire.

Dave was my confidant and, more often than not, my confidence booster. He had a way of listening that made you feel heard, and a way of answering that made you think harder. He cared deeply about what Sterling stood for and about the people who kept it going.

He hated whining and wasting time. He also had a knack for trimming things down to bare essentials, especially at faculty meetings. I remember those long Sunday night planning sessions we used to have. We took them seriously. On more than one occasion, Dave managed to convince everyone else to wrap up before I even got back from a trip or meeting in Burlington or Boston.

Dave was old school in the best way, a firm handshake, a dry smile, and no interest in overdoing sentiment. I remember one of the last times I saw him, at a Sterling event held at Ross and Diane Morgan鈥檚 place. Everyone was hugging, and Dave looked at me and said, 鈥淏ill, we don鈥檛 have to hug, do we?鈥� That was classic Dave, direct, a little shy about affection, but warm all the same.

He had a huge heart for his family, Jane, Jennifer, and Robert. He talked about them constantly around the campfire, along with stories from Raquette Lake, where he found so much joy and peace. He was generous with me; after all, he let me dance with the best square dancer in the Northeast Kingdom,his wife.

Dave was a teacher in every sense of the word, not just in wildlife biology or outdoor skills, but in how to live with integrity, curiosity, and a sense of humor. He would probably deny it, but he taught by example. He鈥檇 probably shake his head at me for going on this long. He鈥檇 tell me to keep it short to 鈥済et to the point.鈥�

But I鈥檒l say this anyway: Dave Linck was one of the finest colleagues and friends I鈥檝e ever had. A key member of the remarkable team of folks who built the program that built the College. His influence still ripples outward, through the students he inspired, the faculty he strengthened, and the friends who still, from time to time, hear that soft whistle in the woods.

Bill Manning WCM

Afterward

Bill Manning, who served as 91猫先生鈥檚 first president from 1974 to 1985, made countless contributions to Sterling and the Northeast Kingdom.

In this thoughtful tribute, Bill reflects on his formative years working alongside the late , a longtime Sterling instructor whose teaching in Wildlife Management, Wildlife Techniques, and numerous other courses left a deep imprint on generations of students.

Bill鈥檚 reflection underscores the enduring impact of Sterling鈥檚 immersive, experiential approach to learning鈥攁n approach that has shaped and inspired learners of all ages for 65 years. Memories like his are an essential part of Sterling鈥檚 history and legacy.

We are grateful and honored to share Bill鈥檚 story, and we warmly welcome others to do the same. If you have a memory or reflection you鈥檇 like to contribute, we invite you to contact us at info@sterlingcollege.edu.

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Marian Burros, Food Writer, Craftsbury resident, and Board of Trustees Member at 91猫先生 from 2010 to 2019. When the food movement in Vermont鈥檚 Northeast Kingdom was just beginning ten or fifteen years ago, Marion used her influence at The New York Times to help secure a major article about it鈥攐ne that put the NEK on the culinary map. Her, and her absence will be deeply felt by all who knew her.

Marian鈥檚 legacy will remain a lasting and meaningful part of the College鈥檚 history, a testament to the profound impact one individual can have through dedication, skill, and creativity. She will be deeply missed by her friends, colleagues, and all whose lives she touched. We offer our sincere condolences to Marian鈥檚 family and express our deep gratitude for all she gave to Sterling and the wider Vermont community.

91猫先生 is proud to be among a national group of colleges selected to receive funding from the Endeavor Foundation in support of its groundbreaking work to enhance student mental health and well-being.

With the generous support of the Endeavor Foundation, 91猫先生 will continue to:

• Integrate well-being into both academic and co-curricular programming

• Build sustainable, trauma-informed models of community care

• Launch a virtual Center for Purposeful Life & Work

• Reimagine campus maps to foster greater belonging

• Connect students to the natural world through NatureRx programming

These efforts aim to create lasting, systemic change in how liberal arts colleges support their students鈥攑reparing them not only for meaningful careers, but for lives of connection, resilience, and purpose.

The grant award launches Phase 2 of the Endeavor Lab Colleges consortium, a group of 10 small liberal arts colleges that have been working on student well-being since 2023.

With this new support, 91猫先生 and its partner schools will build on and implement pilot projects launched in the first phase, scale successes, and deepen cross-campus collaboration. The goal is to make long-term improvements that put student well-being, belonging, community care, and purpose at the heart of the college experience.

鈥淲e are thrilled to move to the next phase of this vital work,鈥� said ELC Project Director Dr. Lori Collins-Hall. 鈥淭hanks to the dedication of our partner institutions and the confidence and commitment of Endeavor Foundation, we are taking meaningful steps to address well-being on our campuses. Our goal is not simply to improve mental health but to transform the way liberal arts colleges engage students in caring, resilient, mission-aligned communities.鈥�

The Endeavor foundation has committed to investing more than $8.5 million to support the ELC project, including $5.22 million over the next three years for Phase 2.

Over the last two years, Endeavor provided $3.275 million to the colleges for exploration and development of innovative pilot projects exploring relationships and opportunities to enhance students鈥� mental health and well-being through the liberal arts curriculum, developing connections to place, connecting purpose and career readiness, and creating caring and resilient communities.

Endeavor Lab Colleges include:

• Antioch College, Yellow Springs, OH

• Bennington College, Bennington, VT

• Blackburn College, Carlinville, IL

• College of the Atlantic, Bar Harbor, ME

• Prescott College in Prescott, AZ

• Randolph College, Lynchburg, VA

• St. John鈥檚 College, Annapolis, MD

• St. John鈥檚 College, Santa Fe, NM

• 91猫先生, Craftsbury Common, VT

• Warren Wilson College, Asheville, NC

鈥淐ollaboration across colleges is enormously difficult, but it holds enormous opportunity for realizing shared goals and catalyzing renewal in service of what students need to persist and thrive,鈥� said Ashley Kidd, VP and Director of Programs at Endeavor Foundation. 鈥淚n Phase I of this grant, the Endeavor Lab Colleges demonstrated what working together can achieve, developing a truly inclusive model of engagement and commitment to their shared goals. In a time of challenge and change, Phase 2 of this grant offers a hopeful, collaborative path forward for students and the future of higher education.鈥�

Phase 2 will continue to collaborate with ELC campus communities to implement activities developed across five central initiatives 鈥� establish program sustainability, widely document and disseminate information, and pay particular attention to liberal arts institutions.

鈥淭his grant reflects Endeavor鈥檚 longtime commitment to liberal arts education,鈥� said Isabel Roche, Executive Director for Special Programs in Higher Education at Endeavor. 鈥淭he liberal arts empower students to see themselves, others, and the world with greater clarity, compassion, and hope. This project brings the liberal arts vision for education of the whole person into sharper focus, putting student flourishing at the center. In doing so, it reaffirms the transformative power of the liberal arts for both mind and spirit, preparing students for every dimension of life.鈥�

Five central initiatives in Phase 2 are interconnected and mutually reinforcing in their aims of placing student well-being, belonging, and purpose at the center of each student鈥檚 liberal arts experience.

Led by a working group with faculty from each ELC institution, the Cultivating Curricular Review and Innovation initiative invites curricular innovation across and within institutions. It considers and connects what the liberal arts teach about the human condition and experience, integrating concepts and skills related to well-being into the curriculum, co-curriculum, and teaching.

Building Models of Community Care and Resilience focuses on creating a scalable, trauma-informed, strengths-based model of community care and resilience centered on the whole person, liberal arts, and well-being that meets the urgent needs of students, faculty, and staff at small resource-constrained liberal arts colleges. This initiative is reimagining how colleges can embed community care into curricular, co-curricular, and workplace structures to support mental health, well-being, and human flourishing through sustainable, community-based curricula and practices.

Center for Purposeful Life and Work is a virtual, interactive, student-centered ecosystem that offers scalable, evidence-informed programming, self-guided tools, faculty/staff resources, and cross-institutional engagement. The Center will serve as a hub for exploring values, identity, career pathways, and well-being. It will empower students to articulate and pursue purposeful lives and careers during college and beyond.

Mapping Belonging represents an innovative and powerful student-centered approach to fostering well-being, engagement, and resilience by reimagining campus maps as immersive tools for connection to place, history, nature, and community. Rather than serving solely as instruments of navigation, these dynamic physical and digital maps help students orient themselves within the cultural, ecological, and social landscape of their campus.

Nature Rx and Nature-Based Programming are aligned with the Mapping Belonging initiative to help students identify and connect with the green and blue spaces across their campuses, recognizing the enduring relationship between nature and human well-being, rooted in long- standing practices of healing and connecting to the land. This initiative explores ways to integrate both active and reflective engagement with the natural world in the daily lives of students and the broader campus community.

Small liberal arts colleges cultivate relationships and foster community, buffering students from isolation and loneliness, and emphasizing a strong sense of belonging. These campuses nurture students鈥� passion, balance, integrity, vision, and collective responsibility, preparing them for wise and ethical stewardship of their world.

About the Endeavor Lab Colleges
With Endeavor Foundation financial support, the national collaborative of small liberal arts colleges is working to advance student mental health and well-being and institutional resilience. Through shared innovation and collaboration, the Endeavor Lab Colleges (ELC) are committed to holistic student development, based on the shared belief that well-being is essential for lifelong success. .

The (NENHC) this year was hosted in Springfield, Massachusetts, and organized by the 锘�. The conference was first started in 1998 and has been hosted in various northeast cities every year since 2011. The goal of the conference is to 鈥�facilitate effective networking among participants for researchers, field biologists, natural resource managers, faculty members and their students, and naturalists鈥攚ho shares the vision of developing an expanded true regional forum for exchanging information on all aspects of the natural history sciences of the northeastern United States and eastern Canada鈥�. This year I worked with Sterling Faculty in Ecology, Gustavo Requena Santos to moderate a session with a theme of freshwater ecosystems.

Organizing The Session

We began work towards the end of winter break in January, when I contacted Gustavo after he sent out an email about the event. I thought that it would be a great opportunity to increase my knowledge of the various ecological organizations and studies being done in the Northeastern United States. I also wanted a chance to increase my networking, communication, and organization skills. I鈥檓 hoping to work in ecology, particularly freshwater ecosystem restoration, in the future, so this event seemed like the perfect opportunity to learn more about the field. In our first meeting Gustavo and I discussed what type of session we wanted to set up, and agreed to have a theme of Freshwater Ecosystem Restoration and a format of a discussion panel. I submitted a proposal to the conference organizers and got started looking for people to invite to present at our session.

This is when I started to realize how difficult this would be. Class had started the week after I sent out the proposal and we had only a week to send out invitations before the deadline. Gustavo and I discussed whether we wanted to continue trying to get this set up, since the timeline was so short. We decided to contact the conference organizer to ask for an extension, explaining to him that the semester had just started and we didn鈥檛 have time to start sending out invitations until now. The organizer gave us another week of breathing room and I got to work looking for people experienced in freshwater ecology who might want to present.

 I didn鈥檛 really know where to start. I鈥檓 an undergraduate student who hasn鈥檛 studied in this field for very long and who has little to no connections. I asked ecology professors to put out feelers among their contacts and started going through the ecology departments of as many colleges and non-profit organizations as I could think of. At the end of the week I had sent out twelve invitations and had only heard back from six, five of whom had said they couldn鈥檛 do it. The one person who had agreed, , is a Professor of Biology at Saint Michael鈥檚 College, and had been contacted by Gustavo for a different session at NENHC in 2020, which had been canceled because of COVID-19. It was honestly very discouraging to only have one person sign up to our session by the deadline. I was sure that we would have to cancel the session and started looking into other ways that I could volunteer at the conference. I was determined to go to the conference no matter what; I couldn鈥檛 lose this opportunity.

Thankfully, when we told the organizer that we only had one person signed up, he informed us that there were some people with freshwater related presentations that hadn鈥檛 been assigned to a session yet, and asked if we wanted to change our theme to include all freshwater ecology. I agreed and worked out a new title, this time 鈥淚mpacts on Freshwater Ecosystems鈥�. Our two wildcard presentations were 鈥淚mplications of Chloride Concentrations in the Major Tributaries of the Merrimack Watershed During the Drought of 2024鈥� by of RiverMerrimack, and 鈥淢etacercarial Cyst Presence from Digenetic Trematodes on Teleost Species in the Genesee River Watershed鈥� by of Houghton University. After getting their contact information from the organizer, I sent out an email introducing myself but didn鈥檛 get an answer. I would be meeting my presenters the day of the session, and wasn鈥檛 sure if they would be okay with following the panel format.

The Conference

The day of the conference I got up bright and early at my parents house near Amherst and drove an hour to arrive in Springfield at 7:30am. I got the lay of the land, what room our presentations would be, what my responsibilities were and what I could get help with. I was in charge of introducing the presenters and keeping them on time, letting them know when they had 5 and 1 minute left. I chatted for a good while with a person who was selling ecological inspired puzzles, debating the morals of blue jays. I also perused the program to see what presentation topics I was interested in. We were free to move between rooms during presentations, and I took advantage of this to learn about a variety of topics. The session I would facilitate was in the afternoon so I used my spare time to listen and take notes.

At 8:30am I sat down to learn about various studies done as a part of the . The farm has a few acres dedicated to research with a plot to grow wild flowers and grasses using curated seed mixes made by Natural Resources Conservation Service () member Kelly Gill. The area is open for research by any graduate students or universities in the area. These plots have been used to study insect and invertebrate communities, evolution of plant communities, soil microbial diversity, water quality, reptiles, and birds. From these talks I learned how seeding native plants can increase the biodiversity of non-seeded native plants in the area. How insects of the groups Ephemeroptera (mayflies), Plecoptera (stoneflies), and Tricoptera (caddisflies) (known as EPT macroinvertebrate bioindicators) can indicate water quality, while different types of invertebrate abundance in soils can help indicate soil quality. I also learned of various organizations that were working in the Hudson Valley area: , , , , and many more. Learning about the diversity of organizations in the Northeast and what they were studying and working on was probably one of the most valuable parts of going to the conference. Hundreds of organizations worked together on the projects presented in this conference and while the conference itself gives me a glimpse at this, the contains an incredible amount of information that I will be using in the future when job searching.

Along with oral presentations, there were poster presentations, which gave an opportunity for many undergraduate and graduate students to share their work. I enjoyed the opportunity these sessions gave me to talk one-on-one with the presenters and ask them questions. I was also able to see many more posters than presentations, so it was a good way to increase my variety of knowledge. I had one memorable conversation with ecologist Erin Hilley who works at Camp Edwards, a military training site, who talked about how the combination of unmaintained land and regular small disturbances from training sessions had lead to the area becoming a safe haven for several rare and endangered species such as Papillose Nut-sedge (Scleria pauciflora). We discussed how in some cases regular disturbance is required to conserve a species, which goes against the common mentality that conservation means no human intervention.    

I learned a bit about the various people who would be presenting in my panel by reading their abstracts. I made sure to have a written introduction so I could open the session and in this introduction I explained that after the presentations we had around 20 minutes of free time for a Q&A, and asked if the presenters would be open to using this time for a joint discussion. The first person to talk was Peter Severance, a water ecologist who discussed how the times of highest salt concentration in the Merrimack watershed was during summer and fall, which I was surprised by because the majority of road salting happens in winter and spring. He explained that the salt levels were so high then because the water levels in streams decreased  due to weather patterns, so there was more salt per gallon of water. He also discussed the difficulty in finding a solution to our salt pollution problem, as in many places salt drastically decreases road accidents, and alternatives to road salt like road sand can cause sand deposits in rivers and lead to erosion.

The second presenter was William Tormey, a grad student with a passion for fish in the Genesee River. I wasn鈥檛 sure what to expect from this presentation, I had never really had an interest in fish or parasitic worms, but the enthusiasm and easily digestible explanations of the presenter made this one of the best talks I had gone to that day. I learned about the role that aquatic snails and birds play in a parasite's life cycle and how the shape of a river can affect the number of infected fish. Finally, from Declan McCabe I got to see a professor鈥檚 perspective on undergraduate鈥檚 small studies. He discussed how in many studies it can be difficult to get a large amount of data, which decreases our certainty of its significance, but he encourages his students to think out of the box. No data is useless data, because it tells a story that can be used to inform future studies. 

After the presentations I hosted the discussion session, which was a relaxed environment. I asked all of the presenters questions that dove deeper into the implications of their work and how their different studies may connect with one another. We discussed how many ecological problems are systemic, road salt is used by state and federal transportation offices, pollution of rivers by chloride and phosphorus can cause fish to be more susceptible to parasites, and a lack of funding for small scale studies leads to less time and resources for data gathering. Peter Severance and Declan McCabe concluded that we would need to fundamentally change the way that water is managed for many harms to freshwater ecosystems to be prevented. 

After the session was over I got a bit of a break until dinner that night, which was sorely needed after a full day of learning and talking with people. I needed the down time to recharge and reflect, so I could be ready to talk with people during the networking dinner that the conference organizers were holding. At the table I was eating there was a group of birders, one of which was Jordan O'Hare Gibson, who had recently published an an opinion piece in Birding Magazine entitled 鈥�" about the recent surge of changes for the official common names for bird species by Audubon. The name changes were due to the birds being named after people who were sexist, racist, or otherwise prejudiced against marginalized groups. We discussed the pushback against these changes and why people feel so strongly about species names. It was interesting to hear the perspectives of several experts in the field. The next day at lunch I also had a talk with a Florida University archivist about the recent cuts in government funding, and the effect that was having on so many of her friends and colleagues' job stability. These conferences are a place for like-minded people to come together and discuss the good and the bad, breakthroughs and challenges, which I found valuable to see first hand.

Overall, organizing a session and participating in this conference was stressful, draining, uncomfortable, and one of the best experiences I鈥檝e had in my academic career. I鈥檝e learned that being open to talking, actively asking questions, and taking advantage of the connections you have are some of the most important parts of learning and growing. These are things that I find super hard to do because I鈥檓 an introvert, but I always benefit from reaching out. I believe that the skills I gained, the organizations I learned about, and the people I met in this conference will be invaluable to my future academic and scientific career, and I am so happy that I had the opportunity to go.  

It is not often you get the opportunity to see a student鈥檚 face light up when they spot a bird they just learned about or identify a tree for the first time only using the leaves, but over three weeks as the intern for Sterling鈥檚 pre-college Environmental Field Studies Program I got to witness dozens of small, transformative moments like these. The immersive program reflects 91猫先生鈥檚 hands-on approach, giving high school students a taste of college-level studies by combining fieldwork, classroom learning, and community engagement in a way that reflects Sterling鈥檚 core belief of learning through experiential education. Although just a small campus located in Vermont鈥檚 Northeast Kingdom, their community is unlike any other I鈥檝e experienced and is truly a gift to be a part of.

The Sterling Experience

Over the past three weeks students lived in campus dorms, ate farm-sourced meals, and got a chance to participate in daily hands-on activities. Each day was packed with activities ranging from macroinvertebrate identification in watersheds to pulling out invasive plants like Japanese Knotweed. The students were thrown into life at Sterling, participating in farm chores several times a week, followed by a morning, afternoon, and an evening activity. There were nature walks, group discussions, and opportunities to learn from a variety of Sterling Professors. Although the schedule was packed it wasn鈥檛 without some time to cool off with a swim in Big Hosmer Pond or get an authentic Vermont Creemee. A personal favorite evening activity was getting to try natural indigo dyeing and create our own hand-dyed cloth covered in unique patterns.

My Role as an Intern

As the Sterling Pre-Collge Program鈥檚 intern, I lived in the dorms with the students and served as a helping hand whenever needed. Whether it was assisting with an afternoon adventure or facilitating an evening activity, I spent almost the whole day with the students giving me a chance to get to know everyone in a matter of days. I got to see each of them grow throughout the program culminating in a final project that was an impressive summary of their change of perspective  during those three weeks. Although I loved being able to participate in the daily activities with the students, some of my favorite moments of the program come from downtime in the dorms where we would battle each other in UNO or compete in Pictionary.

What I Learned

This internship not only deepened my understanding of ecological education in action, but taught me how to lead group facilitation and create an environment where students flourish. Watching them experience the land through their senses by touching leaves, hearing bird calls, and wading through the streams reminded me that learning doesn鈥檛 always come from books. Sometimes it comes from quiet observations and immersing yourself in a new environment. 91猫先生鈥檚 model is rooted in experiential learning, and over the course of my time here I have seen firsthand the impact that it can have on students. Demonstrating that education can be active, meaningful, and unique for every student.

Why This Program Matters

We live in a time where young people are becoming increasingly disconnected from nature, but a program like Sterling鈥檚 offers a chance for students to build new relationships with the land, community, and within themselves. It is essential that we allow kids to experience the world around them, and learn in ways that they find meaningful. I believe 91猫先生 does just that. As the world continues to evolve, places like this will remain dedicated to providing a hands-on education that teaches students how to learn from and care for the environment around them.

Final Reflections

When I think of 91猫先生, the very first word that comes to mind is 鈥渃ommunity鈥�. A community that cares for one another and is ready to drop everything and help at any given moment. There is nowhere I鈥檝e felt more supported or connected to a community than at 91猫先生. In the last couple days of the program we had our final backpacking trip. A hike to a beautiful campsite where we gathered around a fire and spoke about what we were grateful for. Hearing what each student had to say about the impact of the program was incredible. For me, I am grateful to have been a small part of the journey reminding us that sometimes the most meaningful learning doesn鈥檛 happen at a desk, but instead on a trail, in a kitchen, or around a fire.

Introduction

This summer, 91猫先生 students Samuel Stover and Finn Horak partnered with the NorthWoods Stewardship Center (NWSC) as part of their Ecology and Land Management Internship. Under the guidance of a team of riparian restoration professionals, they spent several weeks learning how to collect and sort seeds from mature trees and shrubs that play a key role in Vermont鈥檚 ecological restoration efforts.

Throughout this multi-step process, Sam and Finn developed skills in plant species identification, seed collection techniques, and methods for processing and organizing seeds for future use.

Their hands-on experience highlighted the importance of cultivating a diverse mix of native tree and shrub species to support healthy habitats for Vermont鈥檚 wildlife. They also witnessed firsthand how thriving ecosystems contribute to flood resilience鈥攔educing the severity and frequency of flood events while helping to minimize erosion.

Internships like this are a vital part of Sterling鈥檚 academic program, giving students practical experience, deepening their understanding of local conservation efforts, and equipping them with skills essential to ecological restoration. Congratulations to Sam and Finn on a meaningful and impactful summer鈥攚e can鈥檛 wait to see where their paths lead next!

Reviving Vermont鈥檚 Ecosystems: Tree and Shrub Seed Collection for Biodiversity Restoration

Through the Ecology and Land Management Internship at 91猫先生, Samuel Stover and Finn Horak collaborated with NorthWoods Stewardship Center (NWSC), a local research, education and conservation non-profit. During their internship, they met with the organizations鈥� Riparian Lands team to gather seed from mature trees and shrubs commonly found in riparian areas, such as red maple (Acer rubrum) and shrub willow (Salix spp.). The seeds will be used for future direct seeding as part of the Riparian Lands program restoration effort. 

Sam and Finn gathered around 20% of the available seed, so as to not too severely limit the plants natural dispersal quantity. This ratio allows enough seed to disperse and be stored within the local environment, and for an ample amount to still be available to wildlife. 

Female catkins (those flower spikes you see in late spring) from Shrub willow (Salix spp.), just barely beginning to put on fluff, were collected along the path located next to Sterling鈥檚 Lower Dorms. After a few days of drying, the seed was separated from the fluff using an air compressor and sorting sieves. 

Red Maple was gathered from trees carrying a large quantity of seed, which were usually in or adjacent to wet areas. Red Maple (Acer rubrum) is polygamo-dioecious, meaning that while most individual trees produce only male or only female flowers (a trait typical of dioecious species), some trees bear both male and female flowers, but on different branches. Using pole pruners and buckets, Samuel and Finn snipped seed bearing branches and picked off the samaras- the little winged 鈥榟elicopters鈥� that maple seeds reside in- for later processing. 

In one case, a tree needing to be cut on a neighboring property happened to host a large amount of seed. Samuel and Finn helped fell the tree for the collection of a fifth of the total seed available. 

After processing, NorthWoods Stewardship Center will disperse the seed directly onto abandoned agricultural land and the banks of streams and rivers. The mixture of tree and shrub seed will help create healthy, diverse ecosystems and habitat for Vermont鈥檚 wildlife. These restored riparian areas will also aid in the mitigation of future flooding event damage, decreasing the frequency and intensity of flooding and minimizing potential erosion. Through their collaboration with NWSC, Samuel and Finn gained valuable experience with local conservation efforts and practical ecological restoration methods.

Introduction

As part of her independent study this summer, Sterling student Josie Kahn explored the global impact of environmental justice issues through in-depth research. A key element of her study involved identifying and analyzing visually compelling documentary films that focus on critical concerns such as air pollution, textile waste, deforestation, and more.

In a culminating blog post reflecting on her research, Josie examines five documentaries to explore the wide-ranging scope of environmental justice issues around the world. Through each film review, she thoughtfully connects environmental degradation with our collective responsibility to make more informed and responsible personal choices that support a more just and sustainable future.

The use of film as a medium for communicating complex environmental challenges was a deliberate and meaningful part of Josie鈥檚 research approach. She reflects on this choice in her post, writing, 鈥淭here are plenty of statistics outlining the depth and breadth of environmental justice issues, but visuals allow for a more memorable and impactful experience.鈥�

Internships are one of the many distinctive course types that students experience at 91猫先生. As demonstrated in Josie鈥檚 case, we firmly believe that the most meaningful learning occurs when students can integrate personal interests, academics, work, and community life. We鈥檙e thrilled to showcase Josie鈥檚 work as a shining example of this integration鈥攁nd we can鈥檛 wait to see what she does next!

Fateful Footage From Across the Globe

Environmental justice is broadly defined as ensuring an equitable distribution of the environmental goods and consequences brought about by our current systems. This is generally found at the intersection of social justice and ecological justice, with a holistic approach for both humans and the environment.

Issues of environmental justice are important education for the average person because of personal contribution through day to day choices to the complexity of these issues. To call the United States home means assuming responsibility for a large amount of the world鈥檚 pollution and emissions, ranking second globally in carbon emissions (). Some of our impacts are not physically emanating from within our borders, as we encourage systems that contribute to pollution or other environmental issues in other countries, as I saw in a number of the documentaries throughout this study. Understanding a breadth of environmental justice issues spanning the globe and different industries allows us to make more effective personal choices, to promote a more just and sustainable system. 

My goal was to look into a diversity of environmental justice issues globally in order to gain a broad understanding of environmental justice issues in a variety of contexts and situations. There was a large focus within this study on marginalized communities, who play an outsized role in fighting environmental justice issues. Documentaries were useful for this independent study, due to the visual advantages of film as a medium. There are plenty of statistics outlining the depth and breadth of environmental justice issues, but visuals allow for a more memorable and impactful experience. Listening to people from frontline communities that are, in most cases, still actively fighting these consequences is important. Putting faces and names to these issues appeals to empathy, creating more impact.

Environmental Justice Documentary Reviews:

The Carbon Connection illuminates the plight of two separate communities on different sides of the world, connected by British Petroleum (BP). Grangemouth, Scotland houses the biggest oil refinery in Europe, causing much pollution and hazard to the people in the surrounding area while BP continues to expand their operations. In Brazil, the oil giant is planting eucalyptus monocultures which uptake a lot of the water in the area, drying up springs and wells and killing off a lot of local fauna. First the Brazilian communities filmed their experiences and sent it over to Scotland. The people in Scotland viewed it and filmed a response. Unfortunately on both ends of this issue are parts of communities that despise BP鈥檚 presence but also rely on it in some way. In Brazil, BP is digging new wells for locals and offering employment, in exchange asking for silence on their discontent with the situation. In Grangemouth, locals are also employed, but it seems as though there is more of an issue of transient employees who take the money out of the community.  

What was most compelling was the interaction between the two communities and their reaction to each other's plight. Both communities were wildly empathetic and concerned for each other and frustrated with the negative impact of these carbon credits which are supposedly beneficial to the environment. This concept is a good way to frame your understanding of frontline communities and the underlying connection between them across the globe.

Riverblue focuses on the environmental impacts of the fashion industry in which Mark Angelo, a river conservationist, travels to China, Bangladesh, Indonesia, and India to document some of the most polluted rivers in the world. He shows how poorly the waste from these factories is being handled, if at all. There are a variety of concerns brought up, most revolving around the environmental impact of this pollution, with a few rivers shown unable to support any life at the time of filming. It is also mentioned that these rivers may be utilized as drinking and bathing water for large populations therefore creating risk to human health as well as wildlife.

A persistent theme is that countries like the United States are offloading both production and the environmental cost of such. The magnitude with which Americans consume fashion products has furthered the ability of companies to expand these harmful practices. It is a large part of the economy in the places that supply these clothes, but they are both poisoning their environment and themselves in the process. For the consumers, there exists a lot of out of sight out of mind mentality, with the thought that those things occurring millions of miles away do not personally affect us. However Greenpeace claims that heavy metals released from the production of blue jeans in China can make it halfway across the globe to Alaska. 

The importance of our personal decisions as consumers was apparent throughout. As much as one can blame the corporations for acting irresponsibly, they may also be supporting these industries with our own money. No one can entirely absolve responsibility for these systems that are continuously harming others and our planet. It could act as a reality check for those of us who may be suffering from good fashion sense.

Virunga focuses on the plight of the mountain gorillas in the Congo. The Democratic Republic of the Congo has been in political turmoil for a long time, beginning with the Belgian colonization of the land for exploitation of rubber. There are many rebel groups that fight for control of territory within the country. Virunga National Park was established in 1925, and continues to this day although they face challenges due to the area being controlled by rebel forces as of 2012. There is a focus on the conservation of the mountain gorillas as a means to protect the land encompassed by the park leading to mass killing of the gorillas in hopes to redact the protection of that land. There was an organized killing of an entire family of gorillas which got a lot of attention in 2007, and created a want for protection of them. The young ones that survived were taken into captivity to be rehabilitated in the hopes that they would eventually be able to return to the wild. 

A large part of this issue is oil companies that want to disobey international law in terms of conservation of this land in order to investigate the potential for mining oil in the park. SOCO, the company specifically involving themselves in Virunga, are very clearly supporting the rebel groups financially which is contributing to the instability of the region in a tangible way. 

After viewing, there is a hard conversation to be had about the necessity of energy and gas consumption. This was the most hard hitting emotionally of all the documentaries watched through this study. Although the film revolves around the gorillas, the portrayal of the experience of the local people was extremely hard to watch.

The Ivory Game closely follows the use of the legal ivory market in China to move illegal ivory products, from the initial act of poaching to the final product on the market. The documentary focuses on Kenya, Tanzania, and Zambia, all bordering each other on the eastern coast of Africa. There is an infamous poacher who had been systematically poaching ivory from these countries, and a portion of the film focuses on what eventually leads to an arrest of this man. 

The legal market in China allows for continued and increased demand for this product. Extinction of the elephant is the ultimate goal of this industry, as the less available ivory is the more they can charge for it. There are journalists and activists working to expose the ivory industry and their blatant disregard for the law as well as to make people aware of the importance of making the trade of ivory illegal entirely. 

Looking at illegal industries and the loopholes in regulation that allow for continued illegal activity is an interesting framework through which to observe environmental issues. There is an importance to understanding how exactly the system is failing us so that we can rework it for better outcomes in the future.

Mossville: When Great Trees Fall focuses on what used to be a flourishing black community in Mossville, Louisiana. Originally settled by freed slaves, there are deep roots for the residents who are shown to be pushed out of their homes by Sasol鈥檚 new petrochemical plant, through buyouts and other tactics. In South Africa (where Sasol is based) and Mossville, people are presenting increased levels of health issues. Mossville鈥檚 last resident at the time of filming, Stacy Ryan, fights against giving up his property, although the city cuts off his water and electricity. He lists the members of his family, all dying before the age of 60 to cancer and eventually has to accept the buyout for his property due to his own declining health. 

The story of Mossville is a good lens through which to witness how domestic these issues can be. Though there is a theme of the West offloading environmental consequences to other countries that are dependent on the income that is intertwined, this highlights the reality that this kind of stuff happens here as well. It is happening in marginalized communities all over the country within our own grasp.

Introduction

From day one, students at Sterling dive into hands-on, experiential learning that encourages curiosity, resilience, and a commitment to sustainable, socially responsible living. Our tight-knit community is constantly challenging the status quo by exploring new ideas, perspectives and techniques to create meaningful change.

Sterling Senior Dot Deininger is a great example. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Dot embraced an exciting opportunity this summer after starting a new job. With curiosity, determination, and an eagerness to learn, they elevated the practice of whole-animal utilization by finding innovative ways to honor the animal and minimize waste. 

Wanting to share their knowledge, Dot documented the experience in a thoughtful, step-by-step blog post. In it, they walk readers through the process of making Blood Meal, explaining both the practical steps and the deeper value behind the work. As Dot reflects, 鈥淚 learned a lot about how simple sustainability can be as long as we are willing to learn in this process.鈥�

We are proud to see Dot embodying the problem-solving mindset we cultivate here at Sterling by bringing skills and solutions into the world with purpose. Well done, Dot!

In the fertilizer section of every garden store and nursery I've been to, I've seen bags of bone and blood meal to put in your garden. I never bought any and hardly thought about it until I began processing chicken at Luther Glen Farm this summer. In the culling process, we made sure to thank each chicken for the part they played in the world, their environment, and for their community (us!) before slaughter. We saved the feet and the hearts after evisceration to feed our farm dogs, and put the feathers in the compost, but everyone was wondering what to do with the leftover blood. 

After we talked about disposing of the blood with the rest of our hazardous chicken waste, someone suggested pouring it into the soil of our roses directly. That immediately reminded me of every bag of blood meal I've ever seen. I volunteered to transform the leftover blood into blood meal despite having no idea what the process is, but knowing that it could be a great way for us to take another step toward sustainability, just like turning chicken entrails into dog treats. Waste not want not, right?

I ended up with two quarts of chicken blood and a phone to ask all of my blood meal making questions to. I learned a lot about the benefits of blood to plants, especially in the form of cooked and dried blood meal. Blood is a nitrogen rich fertilizer and transforming it into meal makes it easier to apply in measured portions  in your garden to  prevent nitrogen overload in plants, also known as a nitrogen bloom. Too much nitrogen in the soil (or in any ecosystem, this is commonly observed in tropical waters after a storm has brought loads of dead animal material into the sea) can cause a nitrogen bloom, where everything thrives and flowers very quickly and just as quickly dies from the overload. In meal form, it is easier to treat your plants than it is to treat them with straight blood.

Cooking the blood also allows your plants to access heat activated proteins that otherwise would not be available for the plants. In short,you get a lot of bang for no buck to repurpose your animal blood into blood meal fertilizer! To begin the process, I had to cook my half gallon of chicken blood until only about 20% of its moisture remained, making sure to continuously stir. I read that it was supposed to turn into a sludge but I wasn't expecting quite the sludge it turned out to be.

I also read that adding organic matter to the trays you sundry your blood onto can help speed the process and make your meal more nutritious for your plants. My readings suggested alfalfa, seaweed, really anything organic and dried up, and so I collected cedar needles, eggshells, and coffee grounds onto two metal trays. I laid the trays in the sun and in three days my blood meal was dried dark black and crumbled at the touch鈥攅xactly what I was looking for. 

Once done I applied it to  some roses that had just been transplanted to give them an extra fertilizing boost by sprinkling a handful onto each plant. Turning leftover blood into a blood meal for plants is surprisingly easy as long as you have a pot to cook it in and a few days of sunshine. It's a great benefit for your garden and a simple way to close a waste loop of your food production and do some repurposing after meat processing. I learned a lot in discovering how to do this myself and I wonder, should Sterling integrate this form of blood composting into its meat processing system? This could be a great learning experience on Work Day in the coming fall, and we could even use what we produce  on the garden beds where we grow our graduation flowers  every spring!

Blood Meal Recipe

Although I am not an expert on blood meal, I do have years of experience with agriculture and food safety practices in processing animals and plants. I would not recommend making your own blood meal without at least two years of some relevant experience or someone else with that experience to help you.

Be sure to have sanitizing materials and PPE on hand like bleach, gloves, and a disposal. You will be handling raw animal blood and it is essential to be cautious. Always be mindful of bloodborne pathogens and maintain kitchen and food handling safety. Spills while cooking are often inevitable but disease spread is preventable!

What you need:

• 1 Pot

• 1 Stirring spoon

• 1 Part animal blood to each 24脳12 inch tray

• 1 Part assorted organic material that is good for the garden and dry or drying quickly (ex: seaweed, alfalfa, eggshells, coffee grounds, leaves, herb garden prunings, feathers, leaves,) and that can be crushed up to cover your trays.

• 1 24脳12 inch tray

Steps:

1. Collect your animal blood from a healthy source. If you are processing your own livestock you should already know about the flock or herd, but if you are collecting from a butcher or a farmer make sure to ask questions about if the source was in good health before this blood got into your hands.

2. Heat your blood in a pot to a boil and keep stirring until it has reduced to about 20% of its original moisture (watch the line where the level of liquid started in the pot and follow it as it evaporates down) and it will turn into a brownish sludge. 

3. Take the pot off of the burner and don't do anything to it yet.

4. Have one 24脳12 tray for every one part of animal blood. Each tray should have one part of dry or drying organic matter spread across the tray. Note: This extra material helps to thin out the sludge on the tray and also absorbs and dries with some of the nutrients in blood that will otherwise be lost in the sun drying method.

5. Pour the bludge (blood + sludge) onto the trays and set trays in the sun (try to find somewhere you think they're less likely to be found by animals.) Make sure it is a thin layer that will dry quickly, it smells like meat and is likely to attract animals. You can also dry the trays in an oven, the blood has been cooked at this point already and does not produce an offensive smell.

6. Once the bludge has had about two or three days in the sun it should turn black and crumble at a touch.

7. Once fully dried, it is ready to scoop onto plants to help them have new leafy growth by aiding in photosynthesis (and much more!)

This semester, students in Dr. Carol Dickson鈥檚 Nature Writing course were given an open-ended assignment:

鈥淲rite about a place that is significant to you鈥攐ne that represents your relationship to where you live, or the place you call home.鈥�

The prompt marked a creative culmination of weeks spent exploring American environmental writing from diverse perspectives. Through intensive study of authors, craft, and the ways language shapes our connection to the more-than-human world, students prepared to tell their own place-based stories.

From Virginia to Colorado, the Hudson Valley to New Hampshire, students submitted nonfiction pieces and creative reflections grounded in the landscapes they come from. Each story offers a personal glimpse into the author鈥檚 memories, values, and sense of belonging. Sights, smells, and sounds are captured in vivid detail, invoking nostalgia and an intimacy only possible from lived experience. Fleeting moments are rendered with nuance鈥攐nly recognizable to someone who has walked that same trail or seen that same light dozens of times.

At 91猫先生, we believe learning happens across all aspects of life: Academics, Work, and Community. Every class is grounded in experiential education, field-based practice, and hands-on skill-building that encourages both personal and intellectual growth.

Sterling student Sarah Tutt beautifully reflects this connection between life and learning. Drawing from her childhood in Colorado and her path into Ecology, she writes:

鈥淗ere is where my interest in plants began, in wanting to know the names of the flowers who granted respite to the fields of brown and yellow.鈥�

We invite you to read the full essays below and discover how our talented students draw meaning and inspiration from the unique places they call home.

• Fredericksburg, Virginia by Michael Apicella

  I live in Leeland Station, a suburban neighborhood in Fredericksburg. The houses look similar, with rows of lawns in the front and back. Perfectly trimmed, uniform grass that doesn鈥檛 have much diversity other than dandelions, henbit, purple dead nettle, clovers, and wild violets. It鈥檚 one of the strange contrasts of living here: people plant trees and put up bird feeders, but they also mow down anything that doesn鈥檛 fit the image of a perfect lawn. Monoculture yards leave little room for native plants, and many people don鈥檛 think twice about what鈥檚 growing there as long as it stays green.

  Still, plants show up in their quiet ways and the buzzing carpenter bees collect and gather pollen in order to create food, and spread the pollen past the yards and into the wooded areas.

  One morning, just before sunrise, I saw a fox walking along the edge of a backyard, near the tree line behind my house. It moved quickly. That moment made me realize how close wildness still is, even in a place that feels so controlled.

  There鈥檚 a small pond tucked behind part of the neighborhood. It鈥檚 easy to miss if you鈥檙e not looking for it. The water is dark, but it reflects the sky and trees, and it鈥檚 full of life with frogs croaking, birds calling, dragonflies hovering just above the surface.

  Not everything around the neighborhood is native to the area around. English ivy and Japanese honeysuckle climb up trees and fences, choking out the native species. Even so, the wildness within the area still shows itself.

• Amherst, Massachusetts; Wildwood Conservation Area by Lu Marion-Rouleau

  However many times I鈥檝e descended 

  the hill down to the Wildwood Conservation Area, 

  it always feels longer than I remember.

  49 acres sandwiched between 

  affordable housing developments,

  train tracks,

  and a cemetery by the same name.

  In the middle is a field.

  In the field is a circular walking path.

  
  

  Through sun, rain, snow, fog, I have walked this path with Tux.

  The hill down isn鈥檛 the steepest, but on rainy or snowy days, 

  leaf litter poses a slick threat. 

  Tux will weave his way through the hardwood forest, 

  following smells, rolling in decay, digging for rodents. 

  Down where the forest path gives way to the field, 

  hardwood canopy recedes.

  Open sky returns.

  Sometimes the deers will have made a grassy bed the night previous,

  remembrance of the mammal body.

  
  

  In warmer months the field is a no-go zone for me.

  Ticks flock to your ankles like heat-seeking missiles.

  Little shiny black and brown pearls.

  Deer ticks, dog ticks, take your pick of parasitic arachnids.

  I鈥檝e gotten good at spotting them 

  shimmering through black lab fur, 

  on ankles, on scalps.

  
  

  In the colder months when threat of ticks has passed,

  I walk Tux around the field鈥檚 circle,

  sometimes once, twice.

  Maybe we start in the Wildwood Cemetery 

  just South of the conservation area.

  Other times we take our chances with the hill and all its leaf litter.

  
  

  Every few years the field gets brush-hogged. 

  Blackberry and raspberries canes, poison ivy, 

  aspens, poplars, taller than me, all reduced to nubs.

  Succession begins again.

  
  

  In the winter mice make tunnels up through the snow,

  announcing themselves to the dog with his

  nose to the ground, paws in the dirt.

  Tux makes a good companion until you can鈥檛 find him.

  He becomes a forest predator,

  only interested in the chase,

  impossible to recall.

• Westminster, Colorado; Westminster Dog Park by Sarah Tutt

  My love of ecology grew from my dog鈥檚 love of a lake

  Dark blue mountains reaching to clear blue sky, clouds their canopy

  Trails made up of loose dirt, stones

  Dried up streams carve the landscape, only run consistently in early summer

  Yuccas, yarrow, cacti, lambs ear, thistles, penny-cress

  Tree growing over time, holding a swing too high up to reach

  Pond hiding in a valley surrounded by shrubby trees, filled with cattails

  Geese constantly in residence, no longer startled by a bark

  Pipes from old construction projects strewn about the grass

  Dogs bolting across the land after balls or each other, rough housing in the dirt until they

  are covered in it

  I am out of breath only a half hour in, my body not used to walking for so long in this

  place where driving is the only way to get anywhere

  Of course, at this time, I didn鈥檛 know that my blood pressure was so low

  Suppressed by a long time medication, meant to help but secretly hurting

  My body is building up bit by bit every week, until my breath starts to return

  The stories that this land holds, so many people coming here to simply talk and walk, so

  many friendships started by dogs butt-sniffing greetings.

  My dad and I, our relationship so often rocky in those days, pose each other impossible

  philosophical questions to each other, just to enjoy each other鈥檚 excited voices.

  There is a sign in bright red blocky letters 鈥淣o Entering鈥�, maybe because of the pipe's

  dangerous nature or the ecological importance of a water hole in a place that can be

  dry for miles.

  The order was never enforced and our dog so enjoyed swimming, and there wasn't

  anywhere else deep enough for her to be free to paddle around like a beaver.

  Here is where my interest in plants began, in wanting to know the names of the flowers

  who granted respite to the fields of brown and yellow

  In wanting to know what birds my dog enjoyed scaring off in the lake

• The Hudson Valley, New York by Dan Weber

  Chartreuse autumn leaves and purple sunsets feel like home to me. People travel from around the country to see the smoldering golds and reds as the leaves begin their dying process. The Shawangunks rise around the valley, and it was in these mountains that I first tasted freedom. Every trail felt like a hidden treasure, waiting to be discovered. The sounds of car horns that I had grown used to in Brooklyn were replaced by the crunch of leaves under hiking boots. The silence and darkness of the woods, once scary to me, made me feel grounded. I started to see the trees and the animals around me. I spent nights in teepees perched on rocky ridges overlooking the quiet town below. The world beneath me felt small. The Hudson Valley holds my memories like a warm blanket, softly wrapped around the parts of me I left behind, the parts of me that hurt. It pulls me back like a vine, gently tugging at my heart.

• Nashua, New Hampshire by Emma Weldon

  A section of the street is packed with people wearing green, red, white, or other earthy toned winter jackets and warm wool hats from sidewalk to sidewalk. Every year, crowds leave just enough space for others to move. The smell of food cooking drifts from restaurants and food trucks with tables on the sidewalk. Fair trucks selling cotton candy, caramel corn, and fried dough are scattered down the street, trying to get one last sale in before the snow comes in. Sculptors with chainsaws carve ice on a roped off section of the sidewalk with a new theme each year like children鈥檚 movies or space. The light crystal-clear sculptures are surrounded by people taking pictures since they will likely be gone by morning from a heat wave. A space reserved for dancing plays a variety of music at each end of the closed off street blends when standing between them. 

  The Holiday Stroll in Nashua happens every year the Saturday night after Thanksgiving. It is one constant in a changing area. Main Street is lined with restaurants and diners, barber shops, thrift stores, city hall, a bank, a library, a new city community theater, and a bagel shop with odd hours. There used to be a room in the library at the end of the street that showed Christmas trees that were decorated by schools in the area and was popular at the Stroll, but for some unknown reason it stopped one year. I have seen a shoe store with a mural on the inside that I used to go to all the time as a kid be torn down and turned into a community theater. Restaurants closed and the now open spaces were used for neighboring restaurants to expand or a new barber shop to move in before they were torn down. My favorite hot dog place closed and turned into a barbeque restaurant. Even with all this change, the Holiday Stroll continues to happen every year and it has become a tradition for my parents and me.

91猫先生 student Michael Apicella was recently featured in The Hardwick Gazette for his article, 鈥淪chaper Encourages Digging Deep into Solid Waste.鈥� The piece includes an interview with Erika Schaper, Outreach Coordinator for the Lamoille Regional Solid Waste Management District.

In the article, Erika discusses the state of waste management in Vermont, emphasizing the shared responsibility we all have in addressing the issue. 鈥淲ith much growth and development,鈥� she notes, 鈥渨aste management has become a fundamental part of life鈥攅ven if we don鈥檛 realize it.鈥�

Michael鈥檚 article was developed as part of a Science and Communication course taught by Dr. Gustavo Requena Santos, Faculty in Ecology. The course focuses on connecting science to everyday life through storytelling and effective communication. Students explore tools, strategies, and best practices for communicating scientific concepts to a broad audience.

Over several weeks, Michael and his classmates conducted research, conducted interviews, revised drafts, and incorporated feedback鈥攃ulminating in the article鈥檚 publication.

Reflecting on the experience, Michael emphasized the importance of collaboration. 鈥淪ending emails to people I don鈥檛 know has allowed me to open up and network with new people,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t grows my perception of the community. I get to learn about how it works, and about things people might overlook or miss.鈥�

Congratulations to Michael on a thoughtful and well-crafted article!

Sterling students in the Environmental Law course have been diving deep into the world of environmental and agricultural policies, exploring the complex laws that shape Vermont, the U.S., and even international landscapes. Their studies go beyond the classroom鈥攕tudents are getting in-person experience by attending Legislative Sessions at the Vermont Statehouse, immersing themselves in real-time policy action and engaging with key stakeholders who influence crucial environmental issues.

Guided by the expertise of faculty member, Farley Anne Brown and Teaching Assistant, Isabel (Izzy) Kapitulik, these passionate students have crafted summaries and updates on several proposed bills, offering an insightful, on-the-ground perspective on the latest developments on Vermont Law. 

Check out their findings below!

The Vermont State Legislature started the first session of this new biennium in January 2025. Over a thousand bills are introduced throughout a regular session, which ends tentatively in April or May. Students from the Environmental Policy and Law course each chose a bill they found meaningful to track over these past few weeks. Topics ranged from pollution and conservation to land and food access. Last week marked the second of two crossover deadlines, which is the point in the legislative session where a bill needs to make it to the other chamber to have a chance of passing this session. Some of the bills made it, and others did not. Read more about the bills and their status below.

The bill updates below were written on March 19, 2025. You can find the most recent status of these bills on the .

• S.60 - An act relating to establishing the Farm Security Special Fund to provide grants for farm losses due to weather conditions

  In response to the damages caused to farmers by past weather events, the shortcomings of past funding, and the current freeze in federal funding, Vermont State Legislature is putting forth a bill, in an effort to create the Farm Security Fund. This fund will 鈥榓ward grants to farms that have incurred financial losses or expenses due to eligible weather conditions鈥� worth up to 50% of uninsured or uncovered damages or up to $150,000 per farm per year (Hardy, 2025), with the money being transferred from state appropriations fund, coming from state taxes.

  Positive testimonies were given by NOFA-VT, Rural Vermont, Vermont Agency of Agriculture, UVM Extension, Intervale Community Farm and the Vermont Farm Bureau, as well as many others. Several farmers also gave testimonies in support of the bill including Justin Rich of Burnt Rock Farm, Simon Renault of Scott Farm and Melanie Harrison of Harrison鈥檚 Homegrown. There has been no staunch opposition to the bill. When the bill was still in the Senate Agriculture Committee, the money intended to be allocated for the Farm Security Fund was reduced from $20 million to $7.5 million in an effort to ease its passing through the Senate Appropriations Committee. 

  This bill is incredibly important to the future survival and prosperity of farmers in Vermont State. Severe and damaging weather events have occurred more often the past few years, with farmers suffering the effects of floods, high winds, and last frosts. S.60 is essential to support our local farmers, and our local food system.

  Submitted by Abigail Weinstein

• S.29 - An act relating to the establishing the Chloride Contamination Reduction Program at the Agency of Natural Resources

  Throughout the country, there has been rising awareness of the environmental and health effects of road salts. In January, Senator Anne Watson introduced , 鈥淎n act relating to establishing the Chloride Contamination Reduction Program at the Agency of Natural Resources.鈥� This bill would direct the Agency of Natural Resources to establish statewide standards for the application of road salts and create a training and certification program for municipal and commercial road salt applicators. Throughout February and early March, the Senate Committee on Natural Resources and Energy heard testimony from staff at the Agency of Natural Resources, the Agency of Transportation, and owners of lawncare and landscaping companies. So far, the bill has moved relatively quickly. On March 12th, the bill was committed to the Committee on the Judiciary. If the bill moves quickly in this committee, it will be likely to make it to a floor vote this session. For more information, please contact Senator Anne Watson, who sponsored this legislation. 

  Submitted by Finn Horak

• H.238 - An act relating to the phaseout of consumer products containing added perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances

  As the United States begins to grapple with the widespread PFAS contamination of our waterways, soils, and bodies, the Vermont legislature has become a leader in regulation of this family of chemicals. Bill expands on previous legislation, specifically Act 131, that begins the phaseout and eventual ban of consumer products containing PFAS. It adds dental floss, cleaning products, and fluorine treated containers to the long list of already axed products. It also expands the definition of 鈥渋ntentionally added鈥� PFAS to include any contamination that a manufacturer may reasonably ascertain throughout the manufacturing process. This includes any PFAS contamination from manufacturing equipment even if it is not explicitly added. This bill was sponsored by Representative Amy Sheldon and Representative Ela Chapin.

  Proponents of the bill include members from the Vermont Agency of Natural Resources, a multitude of National Nursing Organizations, the Vermont Pesticide and Poison Action network, and many of individual PFAS scientists. There were a lot of opponents to the bill and its restrictive nature, most being industry spokespeople, including the Cookware Sustainability Alliance, Juvenile Products Manufacturers Association, Associated Industries of Vermont, American Apparel & Footwear Association, Sustainable PFAS Action Network, Heating Air-Conditioning Refrigeration Distributors International, and Vermont Outdoor Business Alliance. 

  The bill officially passed in the House on March 13th, 2025. Wahoo! This bill is an extremely important next step for preventing further contamination and the eventual necessity of costly remediation for our water systems and soils. It protects developing children and all of us from health risks associated with the bioaccumulation of these chemicals in our bodies. Vermont is helping to lead the charge on this issue, and hopefully we can see PFAS disappearing from our landscape in our lifetime. 

  Submitted by Josie Kahn

• H.152 - An act relating to the permitting of pilot or demonstration projects to treat or destroy emerging contaminants

  Vermont House bill is a bill consisting of the permitting of pilot or demonstration projects to treat and/or destroy emerging contaminants in the environment.

   Emerging contaminants represent a category of pollutants that, although present in the environment, are not yet widely monitored or regulated. These pollutants include, but are not limited to pesticides, pharmaceuticals, hormones (endocrine disruptors), wood preservatives, laundry detergents, antibiotics, and flame retardants. They are a group of relatively low concentration, high toxicity pollutants in the environment that pose a potential risk to human and environmental health. The methods most commonly used to remove emerging contaminants mainly include the microbial method, the electrochemical method, the absorption method, membrane process, and chemical oxidation process. Among these, the absorption method stands out due to its high efficiency and low cost compared to other methods listed. Some common adsorbents include active carbon, silica, alumina, polyacrylamide, absorbent resin, modified biochar and zeolite. Among these adsorbents, modified biochar and activated carbon stand out due to their relatively low cost, high efficiency and environmentally friendly compared to other absorbants listed. Modified biochar and activated carbon can absorb heavy metals, antibiotics, pesticides, and the vast majority of emerging contaminants. Biochar and activated carbon can also be harnessed from our waste streams, such as agricultural or municipal waste. 

  This is a bipartisan bill with mutual support from both parties and currently is located in the House Committee on Environment.  This bill was introduced on February 6, 2025, and has seen little to no movement since then. Most people understand the value of this bill regardless of their political standing, since it helps limit exposure to toxic pollution but there is only so far one bill can move in a session.

  Submitted by Joaquin Robledo

• H.343 - An act relating to making State lands available for farming by citizens of State-recognized Native American Indian Tribes

  Last month the Committee on Agriculture, Food Resiliency and Forestry was looking at a bill called , who鈥檚 long title is 鈥淎n act relating to making State lands available for farming by citizens of State-recognized Native American Indian tribes鈥�. The main sponsor for this bill is Representative John O鈥橞rien. Since the time major European settlements were being created in the Americas, the native population was already having land stolen from them that they had been living off of for many generations. There are four State Recognized tribes in Vermont right now, the Elnu Abenaki Tribe, the Nulhegan Abenaki Tribe, the Abenaki Nation at Missisquoi and the Koasek Band of the Koas Abenaki Nation. 

  Bill H.343 seeks to address the issue of access to farm land for the Abenaki tribes in Vermont, and to provide more food security to the local community.  On February 25th, 2025 the bill had its first reading in the House of Representatives, and was referred to the Committee on Agriculture, Food Resiliency, and Forestry. The only time this bill was brought up in that committee was on February 27th. The bill did not pass through to the Senate in time for crossover, so the bill will likely not be passing this legislative session. 

  Submitted by Bryce Leipzig

• H.166 - An act relating to establishing requirements for hunting with dogs

  The purpose of bill as introduced, aims to amend and establish further minimum requirements for hunting with dogs, by utilizing the Uniform Point System, similarly used for driver鈥檚 licenses, as well as requiring further accountability for the handlers and their hunting dogs. Currently there is little to no legislation regarding the requirements for hunting with dogs, and the legislation that is in place, does not hold hunters as accountable as they should be. Establishments of limited field trials for the utilization of training hunting dogs through the period of June 1 to September 15 only from sunrise to sunset have been proposed. H.166 strives to limit what types of game the hunting dog and handler can hunt and pursue, while also discussing the limitations of permitting a person to train and condition their hunting dog through a designated time limit. Currently, the bill is assigned to the Committee of Environment and no discussion was held, other than the original reading on February 7, 2025. This topic is important and unfortunately, is unlikely to see further action in this legislative session. This bill is significant to the wildlife around us, as well as citizens and their domesticated animals because of the importance of safety.

  Submitted by Kat O鈥橞rien

• H.113- An act relating to lakes in crisis and requirements for designation

  Bill , An Act Relating to Lakes in Crisis and Requirements for Designation鈥� was introduced to the House Committee on Environment February 11th, 2025. The bill aims to declare Lake Memphremagog as a 鈥渓ake in crisis鈥� and therefore directing The Secretary of Natural Resources to work with the Secretary of Agriculture, Food and Markets and the Secretary of Transportation in the development of the crisis response plan. In the bill's introduction, the House Committee on Environment member asked whether there have been any conflicts or concerns with the bill, and they were informed on concerns from some conservation groups that the designation may take focus and money away from their projects around the lake. As of today the last action taken on the bill was the bill鈥檚 introduction to the House Committee on Environment and the bill is unlikely to see further action in this legislative session. This bill would focus attention, time, and money on the health of Lake Memphremagog and allow conservation groups in the area to more easily access grants for research and cleaning of the lake. Lake Memphremagog has a poor water quality grade due to the large amount of phosphorus runoff into the lake, there is also a concerning presence of invasive species in the lake and surrounding watershed. Invasive species of concern include Zebra Mussels, Spiny Water Flea, Curly-leaf Pondweed, and more. These invasive species damage water quality through interference with the local ecosystem. Regardless of whether the bill passes, it is a good sign that bills concerning lake and ecosystem health are given enough attention to be introduced to the Vermont House.  

  Submitted by Sarah Tutt

• H.167 - An act relating to establishing the Vermonters Feeding Vermonters Grant at the Agency of Agriculture, Food and Markets

  House Bill An act relating to establishing the Vermonters Feeding Vermonters Grant at the Agency of Agriculture, Food and Markets, has been progressing steadily through the State House this session. This bill aims to address food insecurity and support Vermont farmers by adding $2,000,000 to the state鈥檚 Agency of Agriculture yearly budget that is already earmarked for the Vermont Foodbank. The Foodbank will use this money to purchase things like produce, eggs, dairy and meat directly from Vermont farms and distribute it to pantries around the state, or create subgrants for the food pantries to do their local purchasing themselves. As USDA cuts federal funding to similar purchasing programs around the country, this bill would be a huge win for food shelves, for Vermont farmers, and for everyone in the state facing hunger. 

  Upon introduction, the bill was referred to the House Committee on Agriculture, Food Resiliency and Forestry, where they heard testimony from members of the Vermont Foodbank, the Agency of Agriculture, and legislative council. Some minor amendments were made, more on the wording of the bill than its contents, before it passed in committee unanimously. On notice, it was declared favorable to pass with amendments and is now sitting in the House Appropriations Committee awaiting approval of the budget. The trajectory of H.167 looks hopeful, and the potential social and economic benefits to the state if it passes would be numerous.

  Submitted by Sarah Kennedy

Rory Finn Bosanko is a senior at 91猫先生 studying Natural Resource Management. In researching the history of logging and forestry in the Northeastern United States, Rory recently read and reviewed a book called to learn more about logging and sustainable forestry management. Since logging is one of the primary ways to manage forests, Rory was naturally interested in learning more about it.

One of the things Rory most enjoyed about the book was how the author, Andrew Egan provides the reader with a very solid foundation for understanding what the day to day aspects of logging are. Details about what equipment they use, working conditions, and daily practices inspired Rory to continue his research and expand his thinking about ways to find a balance between harvesting forest products and natural resource management.

Next, Rory plans to read "" by Jennifer Sherman and "" by Carolyn Chute.

, published in 2022, provides a historical overview and contemporary look into one of Maine鈥檚 most archetypical industries. After a career as a logger and landowner assistance forester in New Hampshire, Egan went into academia wherein he taught forestry in Canada, the Philippines, Nepal and now works at the University of Maine at Fort Kent where he is the Dean of Arts and Sciences and Professional Development. 

Haywire begins with a history of logging in Maine with the initial settlement of New England wherein colonists started carving out fields from the forested landscape throughout the 1700s. Logging didn鈥檛 become an 鈥渋ndustry鈥� until the early 1900s when the value of agricultural goods increased to the point where farmers were less willing to take on winter forest work. Until this period, logging was done by farmers and farm boys who had considerably less agricultural work to do during the winter and which conveniently is when logging was most opportune as extracting logs was considerably easier on snow and ice.

Working in the logging camps during the winter served as a valuable period to make much needed cash and for many of the farm youth it offered an adventurous break from farming. Most of the harvested lumber was then sawn in local sawmills that more often than not were owned by the loggers themselves and who could spend the summer sawmilling. This form of logging that grew up from farmer-lumberers harvesting sawlogs during the winter gradually grew into a significant industry whereby large lumber camps were established along the major river systems such as the the Penobscot along which the 鈥榬ivermen鈥� would drive softwood lumber down the river feed the mills in Bangor, Maine. 

A large part of Maine鈥檚 logging story which Egan discusses throughout the book is that Maine loggers are in the unique position of directly competing with Canadian loggers, commonly referred to as 鈥淏onds鈥�, who work in Northern Maine. For centuries Maine鈥檚 forest owners relied on cross-border laborers from the poorer farming parishes in Quebec, many of whom worked on visas, but beginning in the 1950s a decrease in the available local logging workforce throughout Northern Maine encouraged the use of H-2B work visas. This visa is available only for the term of employment and is issued by the employer to potential employees only after it has been determined that no available local laborers are interested in the jobs even after preferential treatment is given. With the transition from company laborers to contractors, Maine loggers started to resent the bonded labor system and many consider it unfair and wrong that they have to compete with Quebec lumberers since they have national healthcare systems and are willing to be paid less. 

Beginning in the late 1800s through the early 1900s advances in technology enabled large-scale paper milling using forest products became the focus of large corporations in Maine such as Great Northern. These corporations invested heavily in producing mill-towns like Millinocket; the focus of the industry in Maine gradually changed from producing sawn timber to harvesting pulpwood for paper products. Egan shows how change from sawn lumber to pulp had a significant impact on the local economies of these newly created timber towns as logging became an industrial occupation that became a full-time year round job with benefits and good wages. 

Gradually though, after dissatisfaction with having to bear the significant labor and equipment costs and in a bid to become more competitive globally, the 鈥渃ompany鈥� era to end, as starting in the 1940s through the 1970s, the paper corporations got rid of their logging workforce and came to rely on 鈥渏obbers鈥� and 鈥済ypos鈥� (logging terms for independent operators) who worked for piece-rates based on the amount of lumber they could cut and extract. The transformation of logging employees to logging independent operators was not without significant turmoil as it was significantly more difficult and risky for an individual logger to finance their own equipment, trucking, insurance, certifications and workers compensation, throwing these costs onto individual loggers was a significant reason for the companies transitioning away from having their own crews. 

As frustration from the low wood prices and competition from bonds grew after the post-war transition to being 鈥済ypos鈥�, Maine loggers came to revolt sporadically during this period. The largest of this unrest was in 1975 when 3,000 Maine loggers, members of the Maine Woodsmen Association, struck against the paper companies and timberland owners. The short term changes that came from this strike were relatively limited outside of the number of bonds being hired falling by 75% for 5 years after the action yet decades later Maine loggers who still faced the same issues blockaded the Canadian border and raided logging camps hosting bonds in the early 2000s. 

Yet another interesting element started to come into the picture beginning in the 1980s, as most of Maine鈥檚 pulp mills came to be outcompeted by international logging companies and those that stayed in business started to move their paper manufacturing to the Southern US where labor costs are cheaper and where conditions for growing softwood, particularly pine, are ideal. Towns all across Northern Maine started to decline as individual mills shut down leaving a huge hole in the tax base and the number of employed people in the local community. As the pulp industry has left Northern Maine, the remaining loggers have seen their markets shrink and overall there has been a considerable decrease in timber harvesting generally.

In our times, Egan highlights the biggest factors contributing to the decline of the forest products industry in Maine (and Vermont) are low price of wood, particularly pulpwood, high cost of equipment and repairs, lack of health insurance/benefits for employees, low wages and a lack of social prestige. One of the issues Egan highlights particularly, is the decreasing familial bond that loggers used to have which served as a pipeline into the forest products industry. As pointed out in Egan鈥檚 research from 2004, a majority of loggers had family members involved in the forestry and 71.4% of them had at least 1 generation of logging in their family line. Yet despite this, 69.9% of loggers wouldn鈥檛 encourage their kids to become loggers. 

This is notable because given the rough work that logging entails, it鈥檚 a relatively unattractive career path without the background of established familial attachments. In comparison to other employment paths that involve skilled labor and equipment operation, Egan points out that construction and many other careers offer better benefits, wages and don鈥檛 come with the longer commutes that logging does. Logging continues to be dangerous (even though mechanization has reduced it somewhat) and involves a number of hardships including seasonal employment, significant financial risk, and pressure from development and land use.

Why don鈥檛 forestry professionals and rural communities abandon logging and focus on stewarding forests towards other objectives, particularly in light of the decline of the forest products industry? Egan poses this question in one of his last sections and for decades, forest management objectives and changing forest land ownership have led to a greater interest in recreation minded stewardship while managing for forest products declines across rural communities across the United States. Egan addresses this question by examining the Adirondack Park, a forest preserve made up of public and private parcels with land-use regulations varying between parcels in upstate New York. 

Historically there was a greater forest products industry throughout the Adirondacks, but due to its isolation and mediocre wood supply the industry there has shrunk and now the economy is primarily dependent on seasonal work most of which are characterized by low wages, periodic unemployment and a lack of benefits. The park is seeing a significant decrease in population as individuals leave to pursue opportunities elsewhere which has only continued to exacerbate the rural poverty which most of the less mobile residents are left in.

Attempts to create similar publicly owned and managed forest preserves have been made in Northern Maine, yet they continue to be thwarted by local residents who are mainly concerned about the impacts they will have on the rural economy. One of the primary takeaways from the book is that no matter what happens as the forest products economy continues to decline, there will always be a need for logging because even though the value of conducting this work won鈥檛 be primarily done for the value of the forest products and will instead be done for the value of the wildlife habitat or recreational opportunities provided by the environment after these operations. 

Ultimately loggers, scholars and forestry professionals have all come to recognize these issues and are looking forward to trying to remedy the ills facing the forest products industry. One of the attempts to rectify the decline in logging employment that Egan looks on with skepticism is to sponsor training programs for the newest generation of loggers with extreme skepticism as he points out that many of these programs have been tried since the 1980s yet they show little value in terms of employee retention. For generations the forest products industry in Maine tried to recruit and maintain skilled workforces from both native born Mainers, 鈥淏onds鈥� and immigrants yet consistently there have never been able to maintain the same workforce. One of the most interesting examples Egan provides in the book is when the Maine forest products industry recruited Tibetan refugees to work in the forest products industry.

Throughout Haywire a firm theme of realism emerges as Egan never ceases to criticize politicians and others who romanticize and extol the the future of Maine鈥檚 forest economy without providing substantial plans for its revitalization. At the end of the day, the future of Maine鈥檚 forest products economy doesn鈥檛 look bright and Egan鈥檚 examination leaves the reader with little optimism. 

This November, four 91猫先生 students joined two faculty members for a trip to Kentucky to attend a bi-annual Work Colleges Consortium gathering. During the visit they split their time between a visit to Berea College and Alice Lloyd College where they were able to meet students, learn about programs, and enjoyed tours of each school鈥檚 campus.

91猫先生 is one of ten federally recognized Work Colleges, and a member of the Work Colleges Consortium. Participating institutions are small, private, liberal arts colleges with modest enrollments that range from about 50 to approximately 1,600 students. While each school has unique work program offerings, work-learning-service is a central component of each work college. Student work, coupled with robust academics and a spirit of service, is the common denominator .

Connecting with college students from different institutions provides a new perspective for Sterling students. Not only do they get an inside look at the different programs and systems at other colleges, they also participate in service projects that are unique to the local communities in each location. For example, during their visit to Berea College, students toured the crafting studio and program, where they saw exhibits of hand-made brooms, baskets, buggies, and fiber art. 

One student noted that 鈥渙ther schools are bigger than we are, but each is so different and the strength of the mission of each school is special鈥� making the Work Colleges Consortium a shared group of special people and places. Experiencing different work assignments in different locations, students become aware of how important the jobs they do are to contributing to and supporting local communities.

Service projects during this trip included assembling hygiene bags for school children in underserved parts of Madison County, cleaning up a community garden in Berea for winter, and a trail work day at Buckhorn Lake 鈥� near Alice Lloyd College. 

This unique melding of work, learning, and service is where Sterling students鈥� learning is paramount and their work enhances and supports their individualized educational journeys.

Warm summer morning breaks crisp 鈥� darkness serves as an insult to my senses as I realize the inevitability of heat and humidity. To work I now go before imagined hotness charges into the shadowed coolness of my abode.

I bike down the gravel path to the gardens. I lift my head to breathe in the fresh air, and as I approach the cedar swamp, the impression of a change in temperature greets me; a shiver passes through my body.

I work weeding. As I push the wheel hoe through the paths, with a diminishing intention, the heat grows; I watch the sun rise over the hills to the East, and now I stare out at my mountains, and my perhaps-diminished intention is not so frail.

When I find myself pondering an entity, such as 91猫先生 is, I notice that 鈥� beyond the vicissitudes of graduation and matriculation 鈥� they are essentially systems. In simple terms, there are various levels of organization 鈥� administration, faculty, staff, student 鈥� that interact and work together to allow the school to function, and this can be intuited by anyone who has participated in an educational institution before; more broadly, a school is inestimable in its complexity and breadth, for it has a distinct culture that cannot be defined in a moment or understood upon first observation.

In work here at Sterling I saw that simplicity. As I labored in the garden that morning, it came to me: this group of people, here, work together immaculately. That was it 鈥� the revelation; something sweet on the tongue that I had ignored. Despite all of the frustration of a summer 鈥� seldom moving from this plateau, hard work, ten souls and I 鈥� I had a command of this place that humbled me. 

Third year student, Sarah, led the CSA. Her love of people and food made her the perfect fit for the job; she adapted to the needs of our customers, created relationships with them, and communicated with the kitchen staff and farm. It would have been a difficult summer without a person as dedicated to the CSA as Sarah. First year student, David, has a scientific kind of mind. He is curious about methods, best practices, and whole system thinking. It was he who noticed the inefficiencies and complexities of this season, and pointed us in the right direction for future seasons as we define new weed management strategies. It was only together that the garden could run in all of its components.

Once a week I would draft a harvest list. Sarah would determine what needed to be used in the CSA and the rest would go to the kitchen. Together we planted about a third of the total acre plot with vegetables. Additionally, the Hoop House was planted with tomatoes, peppers, and sweet potatoes. On the rest of the field, David and I planted oats, peas, and vetch as well as buckwheat to serve as cover for the soil. Harvest was conducted every Tuesday and Wednesday in preparation for CSA pickup on Wednesday afternoon. Early in the season much of the work was seeding, transplanting, and prepping beds. As the summer progressed, more of our time was spent weeding and doing longer term tasks like mulching pathways. The farm ran with our equal parts toil and joy.

We were a house. Now here we had a door: she opened to people, hurried them in, and fed them. A reading room was full of texts that one could probe and study; there was the workshop, where order and creativity lay together with the toolbox and sawdust, that enabled a glorious flowering. And there was a foundation;鈥� now that is where the breadth of this beast lies. When I imagine in my mind the whole lumbering giant of the Black River; and when I summon to the forefront of my brain the essence of that mighty creature whom some people lovingly term 鈥�91猫先生,鈥� it is not the river with its long meandering course, nor is it the extended corpse of the mountains that pass into my eye 鈥� but faces. In this, the people I worked with are but an example of the breadth of this place. Yes, the mountains comfort me, but it is the people that make that comfort possible.

Faces come to my mind. I do revel in the hills, but I labor for the food that nourishes a community, and the community that in turn spirits my soul. If these humans, faces that I see as if in reflection, did not eat, how could they nourish the essential purpose of this noble experiment?

September鈥檚 intensive session saw the return of the field course The Hudson River Watershed: Nature & Culture of a Changing Landscape. Following the river from its headwaters in the Adirondacks, through the farms and industry of the valley, to the depositional zone at the end of Manhattan, Farley Brown, Carol Dickson, and seven students experienced the Hudson waters through wading, kayaking, canoeing, by sailboat, and by ferry. As they traveled, they studied various aspects of the river, including its natural history, its ecological health, its cultural and economic histories, as well as the legacy of aesthetic representations. The course was as dynamic as the river itself!

On the final evening of the field component of the course, Farley and Carol asked students to share one or two memorable moments from the previous ten days. Responses pinballed around the dinner table: the Calamity Brook hike up a mountain tributary of the river, telling stories over our first night鈥檚 campfire, kayaking near so-called World鈥檚 End and the deepest part of the Hudson, meeting diamondback terrapins and learning about estuary ecology at the Pier 40 Wetlab in New York City, singing in harmony while weeding carrots at the Poughkeepsie Farm Project, listening to indigenous voices through the Native Prospects: Indigeneity and Landscape art exhibit, canoeing and looking for macroinvertebrates on the uppermost stretch of the Hudson鈥�. The air filled with memories and laughter.

The diversity of these remembered experiences reflected the breadth of unique opportunities this course afforded: the opportunity to pull mayfly nymphs from a rock and examine them with a hand lens; the opportunity to see nineteenth-century paintings by Hudson River School artists and to interpret the landscape themselves through watercolors; the opportunity to work together with staff of Lake Harris State Park, providing a glimpse into how state parks are managed; the opportunity to collect water quality data and compare them with data from other scientific organizations. All enabled the class not simply to study the Hudson River and its region, but to immerse themselves in it, figuratively and literally.

The richness and depth of student learning was perhaps most vividly illustrated through the presentations of final projects upon returning to campus. Shelby Shartzer鈥檚 鈥淎nimals of the Hudson River Estuary鈥� introduced marine fauna through word and watercolor;  Izzy Kapitulik鈥檚 鈥淎ddressing Food Insecurity in the Hudson Valley鈥� brought a three-part framework to bear on an assessment of Poughkeepsie Farm Project鈥檚 food justice work; Karsen Ponzer pressed a series of native plants in her study of 鈥淏otany within the Hudson Watershed鈥�; through 鈥淧ublic to Private: The Privatization of New York City Parks,鈥� Blake Lyons analyzed the growing phenomenon of public-private partnerships and their consequences for city parks; Lu Marion-Rouleau challenged natural/human dichotomies through through photographic diptychs of echoed shapes in 鈥淭aking Shape in a Dichotomous Landscape鈥�; Sarah Tutt鈥檚 鈥淩ewilding the Hudson鈥� examined case studies of projects working to restore ecological functions; and Blue Orner created 鈥淧atchwork Hudson,鈥� an evocative film that uses images of light, motion, and superimposition to consider various cultural and ecological dynamics of the river.

This podcast intends to engage in spirited, heart-centered dialogue about intersecting ecosocial emergencies featuring the voices and perspectives of people purposefully engaging in ecological thinking and action while fostering active,community-engaged responses that offer hope.

I spent the day before my apartment flooded at home.  At ease.  Cozy on my couch as the rain fell. Letting my aching legs rest and my hopeful heart beat.

The day before I had hiked Mount Mansfield with a friend from out of town who was raring to do the 9 mile, technically challenging climb despite the heat and humidity.  I knew I wasn't in the best physical shape or mental state when we rolled up to the trailhead, but I was determined to power through, hoping the extreme effort and undeniably gorgeous views might push me out of the funk I鈥檇 been in. 

It didn鈥檛. It was just hard. As we hurried down the mountain, trying to outpace the ominous clouds and rumbles of thunder moving toward us, my legs were shaking. I wasn鈥檛 worried about getting rained on 鈥� that鈥檚 to be expected on a long hike. But I was sort of disappointed. I couldn鈥檛 access the feelings of pride or accomplishment that pushing myself usually offers in return.  I was just exhausted. 

Still, I imagined I鈥檇 do it again 鈥� and maybe do it better 鈥� because Mount Mansfield was basically in my backyard and would be for a while. Not a week earlier, my partner Gehrig and I had decided that we were going to stay in Johnson, where we鈥檇 rented an apartment for nearly a year. The two of us have moved around a lot 鈥� seeking newness and a place to belong to. California delivered on the adventure but it wasn鈥檛 home. So we headed back east, choosing Vermont because it is beautiful, familiar, and 鈥渃limate resilient.鈥� A lot of my job at 91猫先生 can be done remotely, but I needed and wanted to be on campus some of the time. But Gehrig is a musician, so being closer to a city makes things professionally easier for him. Johnson was a reasonable compromise. A midway point between Burlington and Northeast Kingdom. But like most compromises, it left us wanting. It wasn鈥檛 easy to make friends as the new folks in a small town. Winter driving was long and slick. And though we鈥檇 tried to invite people we met at shows to hang out, the hour drive to our place was an understandable deterrent. So we鈥檇 started touring apartments in Winooski, in St. Albans. We were all ready to sign a new lease when we realized that we might be 鈥減ulling a geographic鈥� again. 

Someone recently told me that it takes 5 years to really be settled. Having never stayed put that long 鈥� even as a child 鈥� I can鈥檛 say whether that鈥檚 true. But it did take 2.5 years to make a great group of friends in Davis, California 鈥� a group of friends we up and left just 6 months later as we felt pulled back East. As we toyed with moving again, we were uncommonly honest with ourselves and each other. We admitted that whenever we struggle to feel settled, feel at home, and find community, we mix it up. We leave.  We flee back to the friends we already know, aware that they have busy lives and we probably won鈥檛 see them much anyway.  In the soft light of candor, we realized that Johnson was an idyllic little community that we had not yet made enough of an effort to join. Despite the seclusion, the dirty house, the slanted floors, our rental was cozy, beautiful and ours. We felt fortunate to have a landlord that cared about us and treated us like real people in a real home. We decided to stay one more year, save some money, and really soak it in. Really love the place and the people around us. Once we made this choice, everything we had felt more cherished: the mountains around us, the garden plot we started, the quiet evenings and view of the milky way, the fire pit, and the budding friendships we鈥檇 allow to grow around it. The imperfections and inconveniences of life in Johnson 鈥� writing paper checks for the rent, having to walk to the PO box for mail, having just one coffee shop and small, spendy grocery store 鈥� started to feel quaint. And since I鈥檇 just chosen to reduce my hours at work, I felt like I could actually find the time to root in. To be the small town girl of my own fantasies 鈥� the one who crafts with neighbors and actually hikes the hills around her home.

As I passed the quiet hours of July 10 by listening to the rain drum on the windows, occasionally my phone would chime with messages from friends from in and out of the state asking how I was doing with the flooding. What flooding? It was barely raining. I was cozy and dry. 

There was a flood warning on my weather app but it simply said 鈥渄on't drive through water, it can whisk you away.鈥�  Check. I wasn鈥檛 planning on going anywhere. Playing it safe.

Front Porch Forum offered 鈥渇ree sandbags.鈥� 鈥淗uh, for what?鈥� I wondered. My landlord texted me a warning about how high the water would be. It was interesting but context-less information.  Having lived there only a year, we had no frame of reference for how bad it might get. (I suppose this is a risk of being a transplant.)

My friend headed back to New Hampshire that afternoon and as we hugged goodbye, I told her to watch out for water in the roads and let me know when she made it back. Because Gehrig was out of town for the month, the rest of the evening was mine and mine alone. So I heated up a frozen dinner, and watched TV all evening. Chill. 

A little before midnight, I decided to go to bed. I quickly fell asleep, but woke up less than two hours later suddenly aware of odd sounds.
An alarm nearby.
Water flowing.
People talking outside.

I peered outside my bedroom and saw water pooling in the parking lot behind my house. Water where it shouldn鈥檛 be was disorienting but not scary. Maybe because I was still partially asleep, I only felt curious. I moved from window to open window, snapping pictures. Neighbors were out in the street ogling the high water. But no one seemed afraid. It had the air of a snow day. Fun and weird weather 鈥� more spectacle than threat. People were calling out the latest weather updates with practiced assurance: 鈥淣othing to worry about here. The river is supposed to crest at 2am. It won鈥檛 get much worse. We aren鈥檛 in any danger.鈥� 

Despite my neighbors鈥� ease, I had a quiet, creeping sense that I was missing something. I decided to move my car up the street. Just to be safe. A quick conversation with someone who was also parked in the dry lot in front of my house made me believe it was worth the small effort. The one thing I knew for sure was that cars and floodwaters do not mix. I knew not to drive through it, so I avoided the street to the left, which was already covered in water and tucked my Subaru Impreza a few houses down. This left me feeling very proactive and responsible 鈥� much smarter than the car owners who left their vehicles where water was already pooling around their tires. I felt a little dumb for having gone to bed before. This act was redeeming. 

2 am came and went. The water was rising 鈥� imperceptibly. There was no rain.

The images of the street became gradually more eerie. Houses illuminated by street lamps were perfectly reflected into the still mirror that was once a dry road. I decided to get artsy with it. I waded into the knee-high water and snapped picture after picture. Marveling at the strange beauty. 

Even as I failed to notice the rate the water was rising, the scenes became weirder. The yard now had a current. Car alarms were sounding in the distance. Fire trucks driving through the water created huge wakes. Sitting on the dock that was once my front porch, I was literally splashed with a moment of clarity at the severity of the situation when the waves created by the passing truck sent a ripple of water over my head, drenching my pajamas. The toilet and tub began uttering foreboding, ominous gurgles. 

A gorgeous way for things to be all together wrong. And yet the water was still several feet away from the house. Further from the doors, further still from the windows. I didn鈥檛 hear neighbors panicking.  Or even responding.

At 3:25, the amorphous reflections of light that dance at the bottom of a clear pool were instead glinting off my bedroom ceiling. It was hard not to be distracted by the disorienting beauty. It still had not occurred to me that I was in danger or that I should prepare. Prepare for what, and how? My main concern was getting back to bed soon, so I could be rested for work the next day. 

And then things shifted: Neighbors that had been wading around the street suddenly had to be picked up by boat as the water continued to rise and the current got stronger. Idiots. The cars that were level with where my car had been began blinking weakly as the water rose past their windows. So that鈥檚 what those far off car alarms were. (I was feeling very smug about having moved my car now.)

I went back out onto the porch and another step had disappeared into the murk. The water was now lapping against the door, but still was not in. The supposed crest was 1.5 hours past. Surely, this was it.

I went back inside and reality sank in as I noticed an inch of water flowing out from the bedroom into the den. Maple, the cat, was sitting on the floor sofa, looking concerned.

I called Gehrig and frantically explained something that is hard to understand if you鈥檙e not experiencing it: 鈥淭he water is in the house, what do I do?鈥� How was I going to pick everything up off the floor before it got wet?

It still had not occurred to me that I was in danger, or that there was more water to come. I was focused on picking up my 鈥渟tuff.鈥�  I thought briefly about trying to mop the floor. I tried to find my wallet to no avail.  Quickly, I grabbed the cat carrier, thank goodness it was close by and not thrown randomly in a closet, under the bed or left in the car as it normally would be. I scooped up Maple and she went into the carrier without a fight. Another first. Then, I frantically tried to prioritize. Move the laptop to the desk. Move the acoustic guitar to the couch. Pick up one box of records. The other is too heavy. The buzzer blows when I realize there is suddenly 4 inches of water throughout the whole house, seeping up through the floors from the basement. And then I saw the power strips. Glowing red from below an inch of brown water.  I realize now that the house is unsafe. I could be electrocuted. 

That鈥檚 how I wound up on the futon on the front porch with Maple, a coat, and my phone. No shoes on my feet, but thankfully, glasses on my face. 

As I sat on the porch, unsure of my next steps.  I tried to text my upstairs neighbor, but he was fast asleep. None the wiser. Next, I checked my renter鈥檚 insurance policy. Funny where your mind goes in times of crisis. My stuff. Not covered for floods. Of course. Still, I thought, it鈥檚 only 4 inches of water. Everything up high will be fine. 

I noticed men in rafts cruising up and down the street. Their manner was calm, polite, normal. Courteously, they called out questions to the residents of my neighborhood: 鈥淲ould you like a ride?鈥� 鈥淣o, thank you.鈥� 鈥淵es, please.鈥� Nothing about these conversations indicated an emergency.  I waited to be asked for several minutes, but no one seemed to notice me. Unsure of protocol but really wanting help, I meekly called out to one of the boats: 鈥淓xcuse me.鈥� No response. 鈥淓xcuse me?鈥� Again nothing. 鈥淓xcuse me, sir!鈥�

鈥淲ould you like a ride?鈥�

鈥淵es, please, my house is flooded.鈥�

It felt like hailing a cab. 

By now, the water had risen to just under the cushion of the futon, making it so easy for my rescuers to paddle right up onto the porch. Once my uncommonly quiet cat and I were situated in the boat, I was able to take more pictures. We coasted past my car, still high and dry at 4 am. We stopped to pick up a few more passengers before arriving at the edge of the waterline. This was the end of the ride. No further instructions.
 
Barefoot in downtown Johnson, I texted a neighbor I didn鈥檛 know too well hoping she鈥檇 have an idea of where to go next. Fortunately, she was already up at Vermont State College鈥檚 Johnson campus with other evacuees. She drove down to get me and brought me to the impromptu shelter.  

At this time of year, the northern skies start to fill with light before 5 am. Day was breaking as I arrived on campus. Things were even brighter inside the fluorescent-lit gym, which had been set up with mattresses from empty dorm rooms. I set Maple next to the bed offered to me and then went in search of a charger. The red battery indicator on my phone meant I would soon be cut off from communication and information, something I really wanted to avoid. I went from bed-to-bed asking to borrow a phone charger. Someone came through. Once I plugged in, there was nothing else to do but chat with other folks displaced from their homes, accompanied by pets and awake before dawn. This is how I got to know the people in my town.

The Response

The immediate, improvised emergency response was amazing: efficient, effective, and so full of care. Upon arriving at the gym I was given water, information and allowed to bring my pet (which I learned from others was a real improvement on the 鈥渘o pets鈥� rule that was abandoned moments before). Within an hour, some local women came bed-to-bed asking if anyone needed anything. I ordered a phone charger and cat litter, just as I would at a restaurant. Within the next hour we were informed that anyone with children or pets would be moved to a private room in a dorm. There were three hot meals a day provided by local volunteers. The local garden store donated high end outdoor equipment - Darn Tough and Smartwool socks, Hydroflasks, Blundstones, Timberlands, Merrells and Sorel boots.  Being in the shelter felt luxurious. I was better taken care of than when in my own charge. 

The next day, my friend and I drove down to the part of town that was still largely underwater. Everyone in town was milling around in boats, galoshes and waders to marvel at the extent of the flooding. The air smelled strongly of propane. The brown standing water was covered in a thin rainbow sheen of oil. Bubbles gurgled up to the surface. Reality started to sink in 鈥� this wasn鈥檛 just going to be a few inches of water on the floor. Because I could not get close enough to check on my car, I held onto the hope that I moved it just far enough for it to be spared.

The scene was grim, but the energy was not. Everyone was talking, commiserating, offering help, trading stories. I felt included, at home. It felt like summer camp 鈥� a space with no rules. We were in charge of ourselves. Neighbors offered each other canoe rides to assess the extent of the damage at their otherwise inaccessible homes and cars. Several people came right up to me to ask how I was doing, offering their homes, their cars and their hands to help. It was as if all this water, filthy though it was, had washed away the norms that keep us isolated and separated from each other. 

The water receded quickly. By late afternoon, I was able to wade ankle deep to my car and apartment. Even from a distance, my heart sank. My electric key fob elicited no flashing tail lights and friendly beep-beep. I unlocked the car door manually and found water pooled in the cupholders. No dice.

The marshy front yard squelched beneath my feet as I approached my house. The futon was askew. It did not bode well. Nothing in my life had prepared me for what I saw as I peered into the living room. I was shocked by the extent of the wreckage. Everything was mixed together and smashed up, in different rooms. The bookshelves had collapsed. The furniture tipped over. The fridge was on its back. It looked like all my belongings had come to life and collapsed after a night of animated debauchery. 

We later found evidence on the wall that the water had reached 3 feet high. Still, a few things were just like I left them, which was itself eerie and perplexing. I briefly marveled at the difference between the danger of the situation and the calm of my demeanor as the water rose. But even as I considered this, it felt abstract, other 鈥� I couldn鈥檛 yet find myself in this mess. 

I didn鈥檛 even react. I was having fun at camp with my new friends. This was not a real problem.

I walked barefoot through the slippery muck that had once been my home. (I stepped on a rusty screw and later went to the ER for a tetanus shot.)  As I looked around at my ruined material life, I wondered: How would I decide what to salvage and what to discard? How would I dry it, clean it, move it and store it? Discernment and decision making felt impossible. I had been stripped of my autonomy. 

So I just grabbed a few essentials that had survived. Laptop, wallet, some toiletries. And I left.

There was nothing else to do yet.

Back at the shelter everyone was excited and relieved when we were informed that FEMA and the Red Cross had arrived, although it was unclear why. The local response had been so excellent, intimate, and caring. Perhaps we thought that the resources of a federal agency and national charity would make things even better. Not so.

The next morning, I heard from other flood victims that Red Cross would be moving everyone in dorm rooms back into the gym. The cushiony dorm mattresses were replaced by hard industrial cots. The huge food spread and donated clothes and shoes were gone. When asked, the officials confirmed the rumors. When I pressed for a reason, they said those were 鈥渢he rules.鈥� When I inquired about pets, I was told strictly that animals would not be allowed in the gym, but someone would come 鈥渄eal with them.鈥� Rehouse them. Remove the one comfort from people who had lost everything. 

In the midst of all this, there were warnings that the town might flood again, that the water supply would be compromised. I was forced to choose between two unappealing options: On the one hand, with further wet weather, I could become isolated, cut off from supply chains, and subject to a new, opaque set of 鈥渞ules鈥� imposed by outside aid. On the other, I could leave, but I would be abandoning my new community, severing connections with friends, and eliminating the possibility of returning to deal with my wrecked apartment any time soon. I decided to stay. But then we were expelled from the dorms.

I was lucky enough to have a support network of friends and family and friends of friends of family. I had somewhere else to go and people willing to brave the blown-out roads to retrieve me.  Others were not so lucky. I met a woman and her adult daughter in the gym. They had previously lived in a farmhouse on 13 acres. They had lost their home after being swindled into a predatory loan and had been forced to move into a tiny two bedroom apartment not long before the flood. The flood waters destroyed all they had left. And now they were removed from the dorm room and separated from their pets. My heart ached as I left them behind. 

The Clean-Up

Once Gehrig returned with his car, we began the process of cleaning up. We labored under smoke-filled skies, in conditions 鈥渦nhealthy for sensitive groups,鈥� and under threat of more thunderstorms and flooding. It was extremely difficult to sort  what was totally ruined from what might be worth trying to salvage. We tried to discern what would be easy to replace from what was precious 鈥� but when everything gets mixed up in the muck, your feelings get muddied, too. We didn鈥檛 know what to mourn.

For a while, I found it easy to disassociate from my own losses. Family photos turned to mush, ruined art supplies, and my own hand crafts were all just things that needed to be sorted. I was completely consumed with the purposeful task before me. The more practical things with less hope of rehab and less sentimental value were easy to throw away. Especially because we weren鈥檛 sure what could be safely salvaged. For example, I was inclined to bleach my sewer-smelling shoes, but would that have been safe and sanitary? We erred on the side of caution, not wanting a flood to be followed by a plague.

Because we didn鈥檛 have flood insurance, we were relatively confident that FEMA would give us a sizable grant to replace damaged ordinary things. It became a running joke: Uncle Fema is going to buy us new clothes, a new couch, a new TV. The FEMA inspectors that came certainly gave us that impression. Only after finishing the clean up did we learn that FEMA offers the assistance in the form of a low interest loan. Maybe we would have spent more than $70 in laundry quarters if we had known that. 

I was keenly aware that we were generating an immense amount of waste. And I felt so guilty about it. Because my job focuses on environmental crises, I know there is no 鈥渁way.鈥� Maybe I shouldn't have owned it in the first place. I wondered how the waste removal industry would be affected. How does Casella handle its logistical operations when everyone in the state throws away everything they own in a single day? Could Vermont鈥檚 already overburdened landfill handle all of this? 

At the same time, there was also a strange ease in being temporarily relieved of the ordinary environmental consumer dilemma. My daily practice of trying to discern the number in the triangle on the plastic clamshell was no longer relevant. Everything goes to the dump. The trash, the recycling, the walls, clothes, heirlooms. Everything. Aerosol disinfectant spray mingled with wildfire smoke, lingering propane, and probably a good deal of lead paint, fiberglass and asbestos. It all formed a toxic cocktail shroud over the emotional loss. I darkly quipped, 鈥淭oday is the day we get cancer.鈥�

The clean up process took about a week. Each morning began with a fresh news report on some coinciding environmental catastrophe. We were not alone. People in Kentucky were losing their homes to flooding too. People in Arizona were dying from heat stroke. People in Oregon were fighting fires. Climate chaos contributing to localized collapses everywhere. 

Nevertheless, the atmosphere in Johnson was still somehow and in some ways better than before. People were milling around town, giving out free food to anyone that wanted some. I considered how idyllic this life was. A perfect utopian town. Everyone caring for each other, engaging in fundamentally meaningful work. Working for themselves, providing for each other. The food and help was free - not means tested. Everyone was in a perfect state of flow, and their needs were all taken care of. People were smiling on the bright sides of the catastrophe, wrapped in silver linings. I was having too much fun. 鈥淗ave you cried yet?鈥� my father asked over the phone. Why should I, I thought, I live in a perfect society now. 

Towards the end of our clean up, Gehrig accepted a last minute gig in Middlebury as a sub for a drummer that got COVID (more coinciding crises). Why not continue to make friends, put yourself out there and feel normal even when your drums are waterlogged and molding? Sure, the logistics of getting him there added a layer of stress and compounded into a series of avoidable mistakes, including lost drumsticks and risking a speeding ticket. But Middlebury is nice. It is cute. It might be nice to spend an evening there.

But as we traveled through the Champlain Valley, the wool quickly came off my eyes. So many nice towns 鈥�  cute and aesthetically appealing, with dreamy boutiques and cafes and promenades. Even after the rain fell, you could still tell the rich and exclusive places from the poor and neglected ones.

The upscale jazzy restaurant didn鈥檛 offer any dishes under $20. I couldn鈥檛 justify paying so much for a single meal while mentally tallying the losses I鈥檇 endured. Everyone around me seemed blissfully unaware or unconcerned with the total losses sustained by people with so much less just dozens of miles away. I struggled hard as Gehrig performed, feeling so distant from everyone in the same room. I know that life goes on, but when it鈥檚 your life that鈥檚 been upended, it is hard not to feel left behind. I thought of companions in the shelter. The people that lost everything were the ones that had so little to begin with. The social safety net only came out after the fact. How could I reconcile the fact that displaced seniors who didn鈥檛 even have all their teeth were coexisting in a state that is rapidly becoming dominated by resorts and 2nd and 3rd homes for the super-rich? Why should I have to try to make sense of this?

I thought about how easy it is to avoid the dissonance and disparity 鈥� especially in a built environment that allows us to stay separate. In the ordinary course, Vermonters drive their private vehicles to the places they want or need to go. We are both car-dependent and car-divided. I had lost my car in the flood, but fortunately our household had another that happened to be at a safe distance. Neighbors who were not so lucky had to rely on the free shuttle 鈥� set up only in the aftermath and that would surely be gone before long 鈥� to get to stores and medical care in Morrisville. I鈥檝e always been baffled by the lack of public transit infrastructure in rural places, but now my rage at the imprudent use of the rail trail for recreation was lit up. Rather than empowering rural communities to access good jobs and good food, without having to afford, purchase, and maintain individual fossil fuel machines, Vermont had chosen to create yet another playground for those with leisure time. There had already been train tracks.

Later, in quiet moments, we were forced to grapple with our own losses, which we estimated to total about $30,000. It鈥檚 almost automatic to shrug it off as 鈥渏ust stuff.鈥� In fact, it鈥檚 a little appealing to do so because I really want to be a non-materialist. My life is not defined by how much I have, but by my relationships and how I spend my time. So, it鈥檚 not surprising that so many of the things we lost were gifted, found, or made. Replacing these things would require spending a lot more money than they are objectively 鈥渨orth.鈥�  Giving up on them requires me to divest from the meaning they held. 

Moreover, without some of our things, the options for how we might spend our time or connect with our friends also narrowed. As Gehrig and I started to look ahead, we kept bumping into the losses: 鈥淥h, that鈥檚 right. We can鈥檛 go camping next month. We don鈥檛 have a tent anymore. Or any other gear.鈥� To add insult to injury, we have to face the fact that some of our losses were caused by exhaustion. At points of overwhelm, we threw things out with abandon so we could get through the clean-up sooner. It is easy to get caught up wondering about what things we might have saved 鈥� and what possible experiences might still be open to us 鈥� if we鈥檇 had the mental wherewithal to try rehabilitating more of our belongings.  

I also think of the hours I had to work to build up my collection 鈥渟tuff鈥� and what it would take 鈥� in terms of labor time converted to earnings 鈥� to try to rebuild it. In a time of collapse from all angles 鈥� fire, flood, economy 鈥�  what am I working towards? What am I saving for? If who we are and what our lives amount to are defined by how we spend our time and who we have relationships with, shouldn鈥檛 I try to limit how much of my time I trade for money and stuff?

Now as I try to take a new approach to consumption I can鈥檛 help but ask myself, is this going to be worth cleaning up when the next disaster hits? Cleanup from the flood would have been much easier and less heart wrenching if I had just had less stuff to begin with. Would I spare myself the guilt of creating more waste when it is destroyed again, or when I leave this world? Does the adage 鈥渋t is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all鈥� apply to material possessions? Or is less more?

These questions were already on my mind before the flood. I had been feeling full. Feeling like I mostly had what I needed and wanted. I had home, a car, and had compiled a pretty sweet crafting center, replete with loom, spinning wheel, sewing machine, and stained glass equipment.I honestly could not think of what to add to my Christmas wish list. Had I won Capitalism?, I wondered. Could I opt out of working so much and instead use the time to enjoy the stuff I had acquired? I had project plans piling up and recipes books I had never cracked open. The only thing I didn鈥檛 have enough of was time. If I was intentional about valuing my time and balancing its use to earn and to live, I might be able to actually enjoy what I had. Time had become more valuable to me than money. I felt compelled to work just enough to cover my basic ongoing expenses, enjoy the rest of life, and 鈥� because there was not much more I wanted to buy 鈥� save for a modest house. 

As a child, my parents were separated and always moving around. I never lived in a home for longer than 3 years. As an adult, the one thing I have been aspiring for has been to put down roots, form a community and make a home. In fact, all my artistic aspirations have been oriented toward one day improving a home: learning to make tiles and grout for my eventual bathroom and stained glass for my windows. Sewing my own curtains, weaving my own rugs. As a Zillenial, the home ownership aspiration is feeling less and less achievable. To get a mortgage means locking in a higher monthly housing rate for 30 years, and as such having to work so much that I might not be able to enjoy it. So I鈥檝e also wondered whether it would be better to continue renting, work as little as possible, and live in the present instead? Hard to tell.

But in a matter of hours, everything changed. It is all gone. All that I saved for, all that I spent, all that I made, and all that I found. I was so close to having nothing to save for but a house, or nothing to work for but my everyday expenses. Now there is so much that I need. And the wish list is long, too. I got swirled around in the flood and pointed back in the direction of consumerism. But as I make lists of what I ought to replace, the questions stream in:

• Is it worth the money 鈥� the time 鈥� needed to get things back?

• Can I love the process of art without the promise of keeping what I create?

• Does that make any sense as these types of climate catastrophes become more common and insurance becomes ever more expensive and less effectual?

• Will something similar just happen again? 

• Am I supposed to keep everything in the loathsome plastic? 

• Put everything dear to me on high shelves?

• But what if the next disaster is a fire? 

• Should I let my stuff collapse and degrow? 

• Is this the moment to commit to being an ascetic minimalist? 

• How do you prepare for everything at once? 

• How do you come out of this stronger and wiser? 

• Does everything have to be a learning opportunity or can it just be a random thing that happened?

I don鈥檛 have answers to these questions yet, but I am sure of one thing: my last bit of faith in the American Dream receded with the flood waters. And it鈥檚 not retrievable.

We never got to say goodbye to our home. So, we also lost the closure that comes with deciding to move on one's own terms, the bittersweet excitement that comes from packing up boxes and saying one final goodbye to a place you called home for however long. We never got to close the loop and see the place returned to the state we found it in and locked up for the last time. Even with all its imperfections, that little apartment in Johnson was our home. It was an animated, cozy, hygge space with a life and energy distinct from all other places we had lived. And now, as it is gutted, so are we.

I鈥檝e been stripped of more than stuff, money, or even closure, but of my very identity. It鈥檚 hard to feel ambitious or hopeful for the future or know how to best focus my efforts, hopes and dreams when it can be taken away from you and everyone around you without any regard for the memories and struggles made to get there. And without any compensation from any sort of social safety net. Someone told me recently that hope is a muscle that needs to be exercised. It鈥檚 not just a feeling of faith that you get to keep and have. You aren鈥檛 just a hopeful person or not. You have to practice. But I don鈥檛 know what to want. I don鈥檛 know what to hope for. 

I used to live in a kind of karmic fear. I worried that my life hadn鈥檛 been random, tragic or hard enough. I sensed that something terrible must be coming. So when the flood happened, I felt almost relieved. Perhaps I had paid my cosmic dues, and all would be fine from here on out. And I feel a certain amount of guilt, too. I have so much more than other people. I lost less. I have a better chance of bouncing back, I have a strong network and relationships beyond the places of worst impact.  Maybe I鈥檓 not really a victim. Maybe I don鈥檛 really deserve help. After all, it could be worse.

Despite my focus on the material losses, I do realize how lucky I am. At first, I never really felt I was in danger. There was never an alarm or an evacuation order 鈥� nothing to signal urgency. I felt dumb for not being better prepared, for not picking more items off the ground. But it later dawned on me that had I been a heavier sleeper, I may have woken up with the water rushing around my bed, all charged with electricity, phone dead, and appliances crashing down around me. With no way to call for help. Who knows what could have happened to Maple. The alternative is terrifying. I remind myself over and over: I am lucky to be alive.

And being alive leaves me with the task of meaning making. I would have thought that surviving a disaster would snap me out of my slump, make me be grateful for all I have. It might have jolted me and caused me to focus on survival rather than ambition. I imagined I might get a sense of biblical meaning 鈥� a literal flood washing away the old me and giving rise to some new, better perspective. I was hoping for some kind of rebirth. I still want to be able to look back and say:. 鈥淎nd then the flood changed all that, and made me who I am today.鈥� In the immediate aftermath, so much did change. Society suspended allowed full focus on the here and now. What mattered most were the people around me, the tasks in front of us. For a brief moment, it felt so good. But now, beyond that disruption of oppressive normalcy, I am left feeling stripped and confused. The absurdity of the modern world is all the more real. 

One of my favorite books is Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck. (I love it so much that I even made a with the same name full of songs about people having cute homes in the country. It鈥檚 the sonic equivalent of a vision board with a dark twist.) that inspired Steinbeck鈥檚 title is about a mouse whose home and stores for the winter are accidentally destroyed by a horrified, well-meaning farmer, who can鈥檛 even apologize or help the mouse. If you haven鈥檛 read it, here鈥檚 the take-away: Sometimes random shit happens. Lennie just never gets his rabbits. Not because he didn鈥檛 deserve it. The book and my playlist (which I still have because it was virtual) both remind me that no matter what you do, how smart you are, or how well you prepare, the best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry.

Steinbeck鈥檚 original title for the book was simply: 鈥淪omething That Happened.鈥� There was no cosmic or karmic meaning behind it. Pure Sisyphean absurdity, and no matter how much you want the world to have meaning, sometimes it just doesn鈥檛. Bad stuff happens to good people, and vice versa. As one of my neighbors 鈥� a man who lost the home he raised his kids and grandkids in 鈥� said, we had 鈥渂ad luck and good karma.鈥�

The flood happened. I am here.  Things will keep happening.
All we have is now.