Kinning: Part Two

Issue #19: April 15, 2024

“I wonder if using pronouns for natural bodies will help people build compassion for nature and one another.” Hannah Herman

Dear Friends,

Language can delight, engage, amuse, educate, and motivate. I am partial to verbs, those powerful, active, moving parts of language. Verbs don’t need pronouns the way nouns do. A pronoun will hold the space for a noun. Used with care, pronouns can ease communication. When they are overused, the messages lose their luster. “It” and “that” seep into my everyday language. Those words do not serve kinship, for kinship is about living in a world of relations, an animate community. The nouns “kinship” and “compassion” seem at odds with the pronouns “it” and “that”.

Words expressed with care build compassion. To build indicates an active verb apropos of connecting with other beings, natural bodies, or kin. Kin expands beyond biological relations to include all beings as interconnected relatives. Kin includes plants, animals, and Earth elements and recognizes their shared ancestry. I call the Swannanoa River “kin” to show respect for her animate being.

cover of Softening Time

Kinning is embodied beautifully by writer and dear friend,

Elena Brower

. Her language is precise and gorgeous in Softening Time, her book of poetry, and her Substack by the same name. When she teaches yoga on glo.com, her movements flow; her cueing is unparalleled. When she bends to bow in Upaya Zen Center, she embodies love, respect, humility, and presence. There is a palpable reverence for beings near and far. She is kinning.

Last week, Elena interviewed Bioneers co-founder Nina Simons. Elena asked Nina to define ‘conscious kinship.’ Nina responded with stories about her dogs, her native land on fire, and her study of the Apache Plume. She reconnected us to the practice of listening. She reminded us that we are all Earth’s children, we are all native, and we are responsible for leaving Earth a better place. She encouraged us to seek out Indigenous celebrations. Just as Elena’s reverent bow illuminates kinship, the dancers' precision in ceremony conveys a deep connection to nature and her elements.

In Kinning: Part One, I wrote about the watershed group, which aims to help society thrive while staying within ecological boundaries. I wondered what Hannah Herman, author of the above quote and our youngest member by at least three decades, thought during the watershed meetings. Hannah has a runner’s frame, a bundle of talent, and a reservoir of energy.

Hannah shared a school project on Water Runoff. After describing the movement of water from the mountains to the Swannanoa River, Hannah had us draw the land where we live -adding rain gardens, pointing downspouts in the right direction, and staking the riparian banks near creeks. Listening to Hannah, my perception changed. I ceased to be aware of the half-century age difference between us. Hannah is, like most young people today, so wise. I wondered how we might work together.

Part of our watershed from my backyard perch.

Our watershed can be described as the land of sky and trees. These temperate forests are rich in conifers, such as eastern hemlock and white pine. The climate, topography, and the absence of glaciation during the last ice age allow for abundant and diverse ecosystems. People who appreciate the beauty of these mountains travel long distances to spend time here. Summer camps dot the hills. We straddle hiker’s heaven with the Appalachian Trail. We have hiking clubs and hiking challenges. I am drawn to the quiet hiker. Talking or looking at a device is far from their consciousness. Instead, they walk as a meditation to the animate world. There is goodness as well as mystery to their presence. They are kinning.

The residents of the Swannanoa Watershed tend to care about the environment. Yet, more collaboration between local governance and citizens is possible. Several years ago, the Swannanoa River’s pollution levels exceeded North Carolina’s allowable limit. Our new town planner assessed the trouble and hired a knowledgeable water person.

Lauren on the left, Anne on the right, and the Swannanoa River.

My editor,

Lauren

Graeber and I met with Anne Phillip, officially known as the town’s Stormwater Technician, to understand her colossal assignment. Anne is tasked with educating citizens, monitoring water quality, and coordinating with multiple parties so the Swannanoa River will meet State and Federal clean water standards.

Anne, Lauren, and I met at the town maintenance building. Anne explained how human-made impermeable structures such as roofs, roads, and parking lots could wreak havoc on ecosystems. She described the vulnerability of the invertebrates that feed fish and ultimately provide the water with minerals. Anne demonstrated how ground netting and rock structures were positioned to slow and cool runoff water.

The tour of the stormwater solutions continued uphill. The new parking lot design slows and filters the water flowing off the impervious parking lot surface, mimicking miniature wetlands. Anne’s enthusiasm for implementing systems that replicated nature was instructional: water runoff from a hot roof or pavement—if not cooled and filtered—pollutes water bodies and destroys the river’s beings, such as invertebrates, who diversify and balance the overall ecosystem.

State and federal resources fund these remedies along with a water utility fee, a new line item on monthly town water bills. The fee is reasonable, particularly given the extraordinary cost of not complying with environmental laws. Yet citizens are angry.

There was, and still is, a disconnect between the town’s response to state regulations and the citizens’ response to the water utility fees. I witnessed a few examples. A local shop owner complained in a town hall meeting. She is a well-trained environmentalist, yet when clean water costs affected her business, she was vocal about her dissatisfaction. Two streets up from the Swannanoa River, a shop owner complained about the water utility fee while washing his truck. “They’ll get you for everything,” he said. Meanwhile, the suds were flowing downhill towards the River.

I thought about Hannah’s phrase: building compassion and the Water Runoff presentation. What if more citizens had more clarity about the effect of stormwater runoff on water bodies? What if we understood the impact of warming water on invertebrates, on trout bodies, and on the Great Blue Heron? What about drinking water?

Hannah joined me for a meeting with Anne Phillip. We didn’t know where this might lead, but what if we built compassion between the citizens, town staff, and the River? Our discussion felt hopeful—a place to begin. We left with a promise to send Hannah’s presentation to Anne.

We were quiet as we left. Then Hannah said, “I never thought that a school project might end up helping my town.”

I asked for Hannah’s input on this issue. Here’s Hannah:

Hannah teaching on the river.

Current media streams frame the environmental workload narrative to exclude many who are doing this work and have been for a long time, including BIPOC and queer communities. Another common misconception amplified by media is that my generation, generation Z, and the ones following us are responsible for fixing the careless mistakes of the generations before us. We are told that they don’t care. In reality, people have been doing this work for a long time. I enjoyed my time at the watershed meetings, because it helped me feel the support of other generations in this work. I got to learn from folks who have experience. I know that there is a foundation that my generation can build upon, and we don’t have to do it alone. This is also where I met Katharine.

This work is heavy, and sometimes, I find it difficult to stay optimistic. I started studying in this field three years ago (as a double major in Outdoor Leadership and Environmental Studies, concentration: Environmental Education) and feel worried about how sustainable this work will be for me personally. Will I run out of energy? 

Katharine gives me hope. She has been doing this work for longer than I have been studying it. She has met up with the obstacles that make it so challenging. Yet, she persists. She cares. She deeply cares about all beings. Our intergenerational work is lighter and rooted in hope and care. 

Issue #17, “The Essential Water Wanderers,” resurfaced the conversation from that watershed meeting while I was thinking about a topic for a research paper for a class I’m taking called “Natural Environments and Human Health” taught by Dr. Jillisa Overholt. I am still in the outlining process for this paper. I am going to frame my research around animate pronoun use for nature as a mindset shift that will lead to community support for rights of nature in alignment with ecofeminist philosophy. Ecofeminism asserts that the movement for rights for all genders and rights for nature are inherently intertwined. The shift to respectful pronouns for all beings will take compassion and likely some spiritual understanding. Kimmerer’s work created a spiritual shift within me that changed the pronouns I use to refer to natural beings. Kimmerer and Katharine are both environmentalists who inspire the work I do. I would not have gotten to this topic without their writing. An intergenerational approach to environmentalism creates space for creativity, support, hope, collaboration, community, and kinship.

My new goal in life is to live up to Hannah’s comments. I have only been working on environmental issues for a little longer than Hannah has been studying them. Robin Wall Kimmerer opened the door with her iconic book Braiding Sweetgrass. But the pandemic was the catapult. Lockdown provided rare open windows of time. That’s when I read the work of Barry Lopez, Hope Jahren, Suzanne Simard, Wendy Johnson, Wendell Berry, Elizabeth Rush, Kristin Ohlson, Gavin Van Horn, Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, Katharine Wilkinson, and Terry Tempest Williams.

Hannah is right: the work is heavy. But it’s less so when we work together. We build compassion for our gorgeous and still habitable planet when we tend to the animate world, across generations.

Last week, my friend Zee Berl from Davidson, North Carolina, visited. Now nearing eighty years old, she’s been working on environmental issues since she was twenty. We sat outside my studio at a new coffee shop. I told her about Hannah’s recognition that ecological work has been going on for a long time. Zee leaned back as if to acknowledge Hannah’s wide lens. I wish I had recorded Zee’s response, but I will paraphrase:

“I began working to get a Wild and Scenic River designation for the Maumee River when I was twenty years old. We, my community, went to an educational conference. My roommate was 80 years old! She had been working for the environment her entire life. We knew the work would be difficult. There will always be greed in some big powers, be they corporations or jumbo landlords/ developers. But we always thought we were making progress.”

Zee and I discussed the current state of the ecological crisis (coming in a future issue). But what stays with me is that in the mid-1960s, a twenty-year-old worked alongside an eighty-year-old. One was about to start her life work of saving rivers and land, and her elder was still doing the work.

“I like the intergenerational perspectives on a battle that has been fought, is being fought, and will continue to be fought. Without humans giving voice to the river or other parts of nature, their rights will be trampled, ignored, and discounted.” Zee Berl, recipient of The James Compton Lifetime Achievement Award given in Spring 2021 by River Network.

For the sake of our ecological crisis and the uncertain future of American democracy, we need to hold hands across generations. Young people need our energy and our days. They need our willingness to extend the courtesy of giving them the pronouns, the environment, and the democracy they deserve.

Again, Hannah is right. The work is heavy. I intentionally omitted the deeply frustrating moments when communications went unanswered, and commitments weren’t honored. Yet this is still a time when collaboration is possible by finding the right door to knock on. I will continue to knock. I will continue to roll up my sleeves. Working alongside Hannah, Anne, Lauren, Elena, Zee, and so many others is an honor.

Thank you for being here. I am so thankful that you read to the end!

We are kinning.

Katharine🌱

Author’s Notes::

My deep thanks go to Lauren Graeber, my editor. She rights my course when—ahem—I find a tailwind that seems perfect (to me) but is just too strong for one little tugboat of an essay.

I have learned more from Lauren’s comments than from the years I spent in the fine writing program at Columbia University. She can zero in on two or three sentences that are at odds with the overall tone. She’ll ask questions that elicit what I meant to say.

I call Lauren my chaplain. She’ll let my work have a biting tone when needed. Yet deep in this ecological crisis, I get anxious. When the Utah legislature adjourns three years in a row without a solution for Great Salt Lake, which is slated to be a toxic dry bed by the end of this decade, my frustration runs high. Lauren will remind me that we are talking about kinship. She understands the intention of my work and provides that stable voice of reason. As

David E. Perry

wrote in reference to one of his mentors, “I have known rare few who understand the fragility of another human ego enough to allow such gentle sanding of it.” Lauren is one of the “rare few”.

Here’s Lauren:

Greetings, Matters of Kinship community!

It is a joy to be behind the scenes in this generous and collaborative space and a privilege to work alongside Katharine as she prepares for each post.

I'm a coach and editor for authors of all kinds, from Substack regulars like Katharine to folks just finding their voices on the page and authors working with traditional publishers. Sometimes my work is to find the thread of a piece and help a writer pull it. Sometimes I edit for clarity, check punctuation and verb tenses. Always I cheer on and encourage writers through what I know to be the vulnerable and difficult work of finding their words. Editing for a Substack author is particularly exciting because it offers me the opportunity to engage with writers committed to ongoing exploration AND it introduces me to communities like this one in which I witness such shared passion and wisdom. If it sounds like I could be of help to you, please reach out! 

Writing on Substack is a pioneering effort. I applaud all of you who brave this novel way of publishing. I endorse Lauren’s epic editing skills. Lauren is reliable, creative, tuned in, and treats your work like a friend. You may DM Lauren Graeber here:

Lauren

🌱

Recommended Substacks: I am grateful to these authors for their subtle and powerful influences on Matters of Kinship.

In The Garden Of His Imagination

by David E. Perry

Field Guide to the Anthropocene

by Jason Anthony

The Nettle Witch, MD

by Amy Walsh

Softening Time with Elena Brower

.

the previvor archives

by Lauren Graeber

Trackless Wild with Janisse Ray

Fleeting, Breathing, Human Things

by Kateri Ewing

Poetry Unbound

by Padraig

Poetry & Process

by Brian Funke

Beloved Water Body

by Nan Seymour

Somewhere Along the Way

by Jack William Bishop

and many, many more to be mentioned in coming issues🌱