I have a problem with the Sierra Club. 

In my undergraduate years, I went to a local Sierra Club chapter regularly, and I was put off a little by the rhetoric that most of the leadership used. It was ‘we are the saviors’ and ‘everyone else is awful’ and also ‘who wants to go backpacking this Saturday?’. I struggled with this framework, so I stopped attending. When I was reading Lindholdt’s piece, I found myself returning to some of the similar feelings I had. I am not sure if it was because in the first paragraph he mentions Sierra Club as a way to give himself credibility to discuss these topics, or if the tone was just too similar to the meetings I attended.

Lindholdt starts his piece by promoting Sierra Club and how it is “the largest environmental organization” and then goes to say that it is stigmatized because it is “bureaucratic, mainstream, and even staid” (p.235). Oof. I would say this is a bit pompous of a description (from what I remember). Even when I tried a local Sierra chapter near my home in Perkins, the rhetoric was still the same. Angry, hateful, and using scare tactics. This was nothing I wanted to be a part of. I had attended because I thought we would clean streams, go backpacking (yes, I do like that element), and then write to our legislature about change. At this meeting, there was a moment where leadership stated Oklahomans are “ill-educated, red necks” and there was no way to change anything (unless you came to these meetings). It was ridiculous, and right then I knew this organization was not going to be one for me. I don’t want anything to do with a group that places itself on a pedestal and bastardizes everyone who doesn’t agree with them. For me, Sierra Clubs seem a bit like a cult. They start with good intentions (maybe), but through awful leadership and execution of ideas, you find yourself dressed up as a dead tree on I-44 with a sign that says “Save Me” all the while wondering how the heck you got there. For me, Sierra Club seems very similar to Peta. Again, good intentions to start with, but not very helpful.

Okay, so back to Lindholdt’s piece. I found myself struggling with a lot of the arguments he was making. At first, I was on board when he mentioned that writing can place emphasis on theory rather than praxis, which I have seen many times, and it is a practice I disagree with. He goes further to say that writing should be simple and easy to understand — hey, hey, shout out to that tech writing principal! But, the whole time he is writing, it is in a very pretentious tone and he doesn’t really get to the praxis part of his argument until near the end of the chapter. I did want to read more about the Dixon and Lee project where students worked with urban areas, because I found that approach to be very interesting, and I wanted to learn more about the objectives and goals of having students do that type of project. I feel like this project could have easily been a collaborative partnership, or it could have easily slipped into that missionary mindset. I found myself wanting more information to see which way it went.

When Lindholdt finally got to his example, I wasn’t impressed. I think we’ve progressed too far in the semester and I’ve seen so many great types of lessons, that when I finally read this chapter, I was like, “so you want them to imagine they are a bird, and then they will figure out this whole ecocomp thing?”. I don’t want to be overly harsh on Lindholdt, he does seem to be coming from a good (and helpful) place, but ending the assignment by judging a place based on your bird-like thoughts, doesn’t seem to do enough. But again, he might just be planting those seeds, that might create a more sustainable person later on.

For me, if I am talking about praxis, I want my students to get their hands dirty. I love the journaling idea, but why not take it a step further? Possibly add a research component: who funds that park/site? who visits this area? who cleans up this area? are these types of areas being removed/not protected as much? what about the wildlife here (maybe like that bird you pretended to be)?

My point is, I want students to critically reflect on place and do a little digging and research about it more. Too often, I find students (and myself) knowing very little about our place(s). Once I do a little digging, I am often left shocked. I think that point of shock is where the work begins. If we find ourselves confused or shocked about a current situation, we need to go a step further and find ways to become active participants. Maybe we can do the same with students and create a lesson that way? I am really not advocating for using scare tactics (even though Owens Appendix A would be a great place to start), but maybe just allowing students to explore more of their place, and if they find something that doesn’t sit well with them, we can create a project based on that moment. That kairotic moment –> look at that composition word I just threw in there.

Again, I am not sure what type of curriculum that would like, but I think it could have the potential to be really powerful. Students going to a place and writing and just being in the place; then they investigate and learn more about the place on a holistic level; finally, after learning more they create some piece of writing (brochure, grant, letter to an official, etc.) that stems from that moment.