On Mapping A Homeland

Borders and boundaries are far more tenuous than most of us care to admit.

No matter how fixed or real they appear, they are typically the result of some decidedly mental construct and act of naming as reinforced by necessity, desire, or habit in domains of human activity. The wall of a room, the membrane of a cell: when and just how do they take on the role of a boundary, be it through custom, law, and language, or by dint of collective psychology? Contrary to their host object, borders and boundaries are more about how we choose to perceive our life in this world and less about how life is actually lived within and all around us. The validity and permanence of these boundaries are continually threatened by the overwhelmingly complex and always changing conditions that constitute nature and society, conditions that we confront and address, consciously and subconsciously, for better or for worse. So it is that we are called upon to defend these borders and boundaries during the course of our day to day regimens as well as at times of extraordinary events. Accordingly, designing the borders or boundaries of a bioregional way of life is a daunting endeavor. It is a project that calls for nothing less than challenging conventional modes of culture and governance as well as our current notion of boundaries, replacing them with a wisdom that honors the many levels and facets of interwoven relations as they exist in the living place that we choose to call the homeland, then applying good science, compassion, and common sense to sustain those relations and help them thrive.


REVISITING A HAITI THAT OUGHT TO BE....

Sit down and draw a map of Haiti.

Most of us, I believe, would intuitively draw an island in a sea of blue. We would then begin to pencil in rivers, farmlands and yes, tropical forests, even if in reality vast stretches of the Haitian landscape have been woefully deforested.

Next, we would designate cities and towns while adding various appellations that capture our fancy for the way they suggest culture, history, and the spirit of place.

Naturally, it would be difficult not to include Haiti's only neighbor on the island of Hispaniola, the nation of Santo Domingo, demarcating it by a north-south border. Or perhaps, instead of such a border, we might sketch in mountain ranges that - like bird, wind-blown seed, or tropical storm - pay little mind to a man-made frontier.

Finally, if we were feeling extraordinarily creative, or simply got carried away, we would adorn our map with a colorful frame to celebrate the lives of the Haitian people and their communities.

Of course, on the other hand, some among us might draw a map of Haiti as a simple, empty box, connected by spokes to scores of other boxes in a sprawling schematic that stretches around an all but virtual world.

These other boxes would be sized according to power and influence and labeled in a manner that denotes their form or function: foreign capitals, think tanks, NGOs, international agencies, trade organizations, monetary funds, corporations, security forces, high courts, universal charters, etc.

Haiti's neighbor, Santo Domingo, might be included; it might also be difficult to locate. Sadly, on such a map, so are the people of Haiti and the place where they live.

After Haiti endured a decades-long, three-pronged crisis of political destabilization, damage by tropical storm, and a devastating earthquake, the world community responded with much good intention in the form of money, boots on the ground, and plans for the future. To the minds of many if only a small minority, such circumstances offered a timely opportunity for Haiti to become the shining example of good health and good wealth in a sustainable 21st century; a place where Haitians would not be enticed to dream American or European dreams, but could live instead as Haitians in a place they call home while developing community, economy, infrastructure, technology, and culture accordingly.

Instead, after years of international attention, and in spite of its citizen potential, Haiti has become a poster-child for policy-making that seems interminably mired in crisis-management, catastrophe-relief, or open-for-business development models.

To be sure, the challenges facing the Haitian nation and its people are as many and as formidable as they are particular. But if on the surface they seem a world apart from other crises around the planet, it might be prudent and edifying - not to mention humbling - to hold up a different lens and think again.

- Think displacement of rural communities in India, China, Africa.

- Underdevelopment in rural Spain. In rural Eastern Europe.

- Natural resource mismanagement, Indonesia or the Amazon.

- Rising levels of hunger and under-nourishment in the UK and USA.

- Poverty, neglect, and environmental degradation on First Nation lands across North America.

- Threatened wild salmon in British Columbia.

- Threatened old-growth forests in Oregon.

- Decimated oyster larvae populations, southern France.

- Tar sands extraction, Alberta.

- Polluted aquifers, Montana.

- Mountain-top coal removal, West Virginia.

- Insect-resistant GMO corn that is anything but insect-resistant, Iowa.

- Extended drought in Texas, Colorado.

- Rapidly vanishing wetlands, Louisiana.

- Fracking for natural gas in Pennsylvania.

Getting closer to home, is it? Well, forget the debates about climate change and global warming. Instead, try drawing a map of any one place where you live or like to visit, of any one place that occupies and fascinates your imagination.

What does your map look like? What type of map did you choose to draw?

Did it resemble earth and water, forest and farmland, with healthy, sustainable cities, towns and hamlets, or did you prefer to construct a map composed from empty little boxes?

The choice is yours, is ours. But whichever map you choose, be prepared to address the simple fact that Haiti may not be so far away, or so very different, as you once thought.

Lloyd Vivola

July 14, 2012


Related Reading

Who Will Feed Haiti? Who Will Feed Us?

Indian physicist Vandana Shiva is a world-renowned activist and diplomat for eco-agronomy, biodiversity, and farmer rights. In her article, "The Myth of Industrial Agriculture", she counters misinformation - as typically disseminated by proponents of large-scale agribusiness - with scientific evidence that supports small, eco-friendly farming and fishing as the only sane alternative for achieving healthy societies and true food security while avoiding ecological catastrophe.

Presented by Al-Jazeera English: September 23, 2012

Go to link: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2012/09/2012998389284146.html

Copyright 2012 Lloyd VivolaSend comments to kwedachi.ocascadia@gmail.com