Our First Day of Class Experiences!

Environmental Writing
Robin Freeman, Instructor , Merritt College
Student: Janice Gloe


Environmental Writing Assignment for 9/14/09


When I entered the Merritt Campus and the trail to Self Reliant House the
beauty of nature refreshed my spirit. I hope I can learn how to express this
beauty respectfully and effectively in words.

I was apprehensive about sharing my writing. It takes a lot of courage
to share personal ideas and writing. I like to write but find it difficult
to share because I am never quite sure if what I write will turn out well.

After our first class I feel better about writing already.

Hearing the stories of others is inspiring. We have a very creative and
diverse group of students. The people in our class are caring and supportive.
It was fun to interview each other and to share our stories.

We all have our strengths, weaknesses and interests. I noticed that different
people also are reticent to share their writing for different reasons.

When I shared my worst writing experience from English 1A it helped.
I never realized how much that had affected how I felt about writing. When
I worked so hard on the paper and the instructor gave me a D and said that
one must have experience to write it puzzled me. I am sure there many
things about my writing that needed improvement! No matter what I wrote in
that class it was never good enough, no matter how hard I tried. I think I got a C
in the class.

I don’t mind constructive criticism at all. I learn a lot from that. But I don’t think in
that class that the criticism was constructive.

I very much appreciate that after we all shared our writing that Robin shared
what he wrote. It is beautiful and meaningful.

It is interesting how ideas from one person can spark ideas within oneself.
Perhaps something I write sometime may spark an idea for someone else
about how in the city we can still come back to nature and be
in touch with Mother Earth even through just a tiny plant growing out of a crack
in the concrete or that people care enough to preserve natural area or to
create a park or community garden to enrich an urban area.
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Mary Bowden
Environmental writing
September 14, 2009
I grew up sitting under black and live oaks, grey pines, and manzanitas, just to pass the time. As a child, I imagined Robin Hood and Maid Marian, and I made miniature villages from acorns and sticks and bits of moss, and I found nooks near the creek and read books for hours. As an adult, I'm doing it with more knowledge of the natural processes there, and working out how to share that verbally with other people. My favorite places on the walk we took on campus felt enclosed, so that I could choose, by facing the right direction, to look only up at the sky and leaves, or at the trunks, and not at distant athletes, vehicles, or buildings. I love leaf litter – I always have, I did as a child, too – and I love finding signs of other things living in or around trees, especially insect sign, and signs that other animals have been dining on insects. The straight lines of sapsucker holes and acorn woodpecker granaries can both send me over the moon with bliss. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but there it is.

My first impression of this writing class was generally positive. People here are kind and generous, or seem to be. I'm concerned about soft-love -- I do want to get better, not just be encouraged. If I could word things differently here and there, or use different grammar or construction, I'd like to know that, and want to hear it from people. That doesn't mean I'll do it someone else's way, I have a pretty strong sense of what I want to say. But I am not always my own best editor. I want to hold attention and help people learn, or I wouldn't be writing. I want to learn to report clearly and succinctly where needed, and creatively meander elsewhere. I am taking this class in part to be around other people on the same journey, but also, to learn how to do things I’m clueless about.

I enjoy listening to others read what they've written, and would like to know when people read if they're looking for any particular feedback, now and then. “Positive” is a given. But if I’m not clear enough, or my grammar is distracting from what I want to say, how will I know? Ultimately, I’d like to learn how to control that as well.

When we were outdoors, I found immediately places that I want to be, observe, talk about, write about, for our first exercise. I like being still in or interacting with nature immediately around me. I'd like to go a bit farther afield in the bay area for that, too, and recognize that I can do that separately.


I feel a bit stuck talking about what I might like to learn from here on out – everything. I don't know yet how thoroughly I don't know things; I figure I'll learn over the first weeks..


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My First Environmental Writing Class
Jennifer Jordan-Wong
9-14-09

When I woke up this morning, my cat politely pawed my face to remind me it was time to feed him. He leaned in close, snuffing and sniffing. Then he began to lick my forehead with his sandpaper tongue.

“Ouch!” I gently pushed him away. “ Yawning, I rubbed sleep from my eyes and rehearsed my day. I took a deep breath, stretched my arms, arched my back.

Today was the first day of my Environmental Writing class. What the class would be like? I wondered. What would I write about? Who would show up? Would I make any new friends?

The cat, seeing I was not making any progress with his breakfast, snuffed loudly and began methodically walking over my chest and belly. Lifting him off me, I stumbled out of bed, fumbling for my slippers. He leapt off the bed, raced to his bowl and paced frantically in front of it.
“Meow! Meeooow”
“Coming, kitty, I’m coming.” Kibble tinkled into his metal food bowl. He shoved his face into his bowl as I poured, unwilling to wait even a second longer. Kibble bits bounced off his busy head.

Getting ready for school, I wondered what cats would write about if they could take Environmental Writing classes. Haikus about the pleasures of mouse chases? Memoirs of naps taken on soft rugs in puddles of sunshine? Essays on the joys of wet food?

Curious about my new class, and fortified by my hot, sweet mocha from the nearby Peets, I navigated through weekend traffic and urged my car up the steep hill to Merritt.

When I entered the classroom, quiet, inquisitive pairs of eyes met mine. I chose an empty seat in the semi-circle and pulled out a pen and paper. Looking around, my gaze settled on a friendly looking woman wearing a t-shirt in one of my very favorite shades - a deep, dark, almost eggplant purple. “Oooh,” I thought, mesmerized by the rich hue. “I love that color. Maybe we’ll be friends.”

Under our teacher, Robin Freeman’s guidance, we did some warm-up writing exercises in small groups. “Finish these sentences,” Robin said. “When woke up this morning…” and “When I entered…”

After lunch, we paired up and introduced ourselves. My partner and I sat outside under on the wooden steps of the front porch facing the apple tree. We told each other our stories: our interests and experience in writing, our goals for the course and our worries about it. Then the class regrouped and we took turns introducing our partner to the rest of the class.

The afternoon melted on. The sun reached warm fingers through the large windows and I thought briefly of cat naps.

We were a class of strangers but that didn’t seem to stop anyone from sharing their thoughts, goals and worries openly. In fact, one student teared up while she talked.
Her willingness to be honest and open with all of us, combined with the class’ empathetic response to her, was touching. I decided then I needn’t worry about sharing any difficult feelings in my own writing for the class. By the end of the class, I knew I was in a safe group of fellow writers. I trusted every single person in the class to be kind and respectful of me, and each other. We had responded to each other with kindness and empathy. And at least one other person knew the value of a terrific shade of purple. Maybe I could be friends with everyone in class, no matter what color t-shirt they wore.


Nobuto Suga
9 / 14 / 09
ENVIRONMENTAL WRITING
First day class
Interview at the Sept-5 class
Fresh impression within the writing class
I was so excited to be taking an environmental writing class, but at the same time my brain was frozen. I had planted an almost invisible tiny seed in my head, but it had not been getting enough water and sunlight. 7 am, on Saturday 5th, the sun is up, the birds are chattering in the cool fresh air. I slowly prepared for the first day of the class. My biggest obstacle was transportation to get to the class room, which is located on the top of a hill. I knew or I guessed it's not going to be a fun ride by my bicycle, so I looked up the public transportation option on the 511 web-site. The system came up with a plan that would take 45 minuets. However, it took me one and half hours. I was very frustrated, but also I regreted that I didn't leave the house earlier. I just waited for the bus patiently. My classmates made a circle in the room. The sunlight was shining through the windows and the ventilation systems at the self-reliant house. I greeted professor, Robin Freeman, with my apology for the delay. It was a very diverse group of students in so many ways. I was just a student attending the first writing class. I was filled with positive potential. The professor was going through the syllabus and getting out the information about the environmental programs at Merritt College. It made me to calm down and it was easy to catch up with the flow. I felt myself relaxing into the room. My intention, a goal, in this class was to become comfortable with writing down words without interruption by grammar and composition, and somehow be a professional in report writing, and project proposals. The first class exercise was to write down our personal experiences with writing and to interview a classmate about it. It was a great introduction to the class and could get the energy in the circle, shared thoughts and feelings, asking questions to each other and getting to know each personality. The professor mentioned that story telling, is human being’s culture to talk to each other. It is how, our brain was constructed through out time. I had been avoiding writing. I thought there are other forms or ways to express ideas and feelings as a story teller. It definitely had been my cup of a tea to write down the words. It would not be easy to become comfortable in the English language and its composition without effort and practice. Luckily, my seed was not dried out yet and kept an identity and energy to shoot out a sprout. I felt a confidence that I stepped into the right place to invest my time writing and to develop my interest in the cultural landscape. The writing journal would be an important tool to expand my expression and communication skills as a story teller.

Juan Blanco Prada
Environmental Writing
Assignment 1 - edited
10/21/09


First Day Impressions

I walked in late. People were sitting in a circle. I sat down, trying to catch up with what was going on.

I see a good mix of people, with different ethnic backgrounds and ages, which is what I can tell at first sight. There are more women than men, too. All the things have been generally the case in most of my classes at Merritt, although sometimes I found the demographics to be a little skewed to the Anglo side of things; strange for Oakland. But then, again, environmental concerns are still dominated by White, middle-class folks, even though this is changing, especially here in the East Bay.

I also remember expecting the class to follow some familiar patterns: a not quite defined syllabus, a flexible grading policy, and the recurrent digressions of our dear instructor. By now, I believe I have learned how to learn in Robin’s classes, but I can see the puzzlement in the faces of some people who long for a more linear and structured teaching style. I wonder if his classes shouldn’t come with a warning label of sorts..

As we leave the class, I am filled with the anticipation of doing some fun work, writing and thinking about nature and our place in it, but I also fear how is this class going to go along given the scarcity of resources and how thin our instructor/administrator/housekeeper is stretched. I know it will be another semester in which I will be walking the tight rope of public education for the masses, where no money is left for instructors and personnel, but plenty of sweet deals and high salaries for the president, Peralta’s board of trustees and they well-connected contractor friends. I think of the recent political “debates” around health care reform and wonder: is this socialism, yet?

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Janis Poon
Environmental Writing Envmt #18

September 21, 2009
Mon 6:30 - 9:20

When I entered the Environmental Center - Self Reliant House .on
this bright Saturday morning of the Labor Day holiday weekend I was not
surprised to see just an empty classroom and instructor Robin Freeman by himself
I did not know what to expect. People began coming in and the seats began to fill up.
While waiting for the lecture to start, I began thinking about several construction jobs
that I had worked on inside and outside of the refineries. I began talking with trained
people in the occupational safety and health field. They told me how they began by going to college, taking courses: receiving certificates, AS and BS degrees and getting work
after alot of volunteering experience to get into the field.
I began thinking about how I could make a transition from the construction field to
Environmental Science or Studies and/or Occupational Safety and Health.

I have a strong desire to help prevent accident or illnesses. I have worked with many
people in the construction field and have dealt with people who were informed about safe
working practices, but they did not comprehend or understand the information when it was first presented to them. I got the sense that some were afraid to
say that they did not understand because of fear of losing their jobs and that is how some
safety and health hazards begin on the job. On construction jobs sites safety should be
first to protect the employees the community and the environment. If a
serious mistake happens it could kill you and your co-workers, and harm the environment
all at once or over a long period of time.

I have not attended any colleges courses since 1976, but I have attended courses at my
Union Training Center. I have always wanted to complete my education, but most of all
find the area of study that I enjoy learning about and would be able to share it with others.

What I am looking for out of this environmental writing class is to be able to express

myself naturally and, when necessary, put information in technical format. I hope this
program will help me to become knowledgeable about our environment.
so that I can communicate to others how important it is to take care of the earth and
ourselves. By learning to respect and understand cycles of the earth, it will prepare us for
the future in an ecologically responsible manner. By cutting out as many negative
wasteful habits we could begin an environmentally sustainable lifestyle.
First Environmental Writing Class:
Teish

I knew that my Environmental Writing class would be wonderful. If only I could get to it.

I’d taken Environmental Careers with Mr. Freeman and found him to be a great teacher who helped me to integrate all my life experience into realistic possibilities for addressing the environmental issues important to me.

Now I would have the opportunity to hone my writing skills, learn some new techniques and, hopefully, find a magazine or an organization that could really use my talents.

I knew that my classmates would be warm, intelligent people who really cared about the earth and other people. That had been my experience in the Agro-Ecology class with Leslie Geathers. So I was really ready for the first class. If only I could get there!

My goddaughter dropped me off at the Horticulture Building for my Botanical Drawing class, after I first showed her where to pick me up that night—parking lot E down the hill from the Self-Reliant House.

“Yeye, how are you going to make it up that hill. Why don’t they open the gate so I can drive you up there? Your class isn’t over until late tonight. Why are you walking in the dark?”

She had the same questions I had. Why isn’t the Self-Reliant house accessible to people with sore knees and pained lower backs?

Once I’d asked a Security Guard if he could drive me up the hill closer to the House. No. Why couldn’t people with limited mobility drive up closer?
Because there is nowhere to park! So why is that?

If the two gates were opened I could walk from Horticulture to Environmental Management, but then I still wouldn’t be able to manage the slope downhill. Could I walk across the athletic field and enter through a back gate? These questions dominate my mind every time. So I drag a wheeled briefcase across rocks and roots and hope I don’t fall flat on my face.

I enter the classroom. We sit in a circle. Mr. Freeman has the schedule of the day clearly written on the board. We are invited to go out on the land and write what we see and feel. I love this approach to the work but fear that I may lack the technical skill to do this first assignment. Not to worry. We will share our writing and help each other in an atmosphere of respect and reward.

This is the way all my classes have been and I hope they will continue to be.
If only I can get to them.
The Vernal Pool
Kerry Abukhalaf 9/14/09

Sometimes the path to your final destination is obvious, and sometimes you need to search around a little, before you find your way. I thought I knew theMerritt College campus well, until I arrive for Day 1 of the Environmental Writing course at the Self-Reliant House. Working from my mental map, I approach the school with a pretty clear sense of where I’m headed. But, as I drive circles around the perimeter of the college, my destination becomes unclear. I pass a handful of vendors at what appears to be a farmer’s market, rumble around several faculty-designated parking lots, skirt a few speed bumps, and find myself at the uppermost corner of the campus, halted by a gate across a long driveway into the hills. After ditching my car, I find my way around the gate and up to the small ranch-style cottage perched above the campus—only a little sweaty and about ten minutes late. I imagine that all the students have assembled in a semi-circle and are watching my approach through a wide window and chuckling.

The room is airy and bright, if a little chaotic. An impressive pile of books on various green topics, from ecology to environmental justice, are spread across the front table. Our teacher Robin Freeman launches the class with some simple introductory writing exercises which reveal our diversity, including mixed ages and educational backgrounds, and varying degrees of confidence in our abilities as writers. It is challenging for me to speak in front of a group, and this time is no different. The other students are exceptional listeners, though, and as we each take a turn, the time seems to flicker by.

As we read out loud, our intentions become more apparent. Some have come to find a way to write more succinctly and others to write about sustainability or the recycling industry. Whether our motivations are for self-expression, activism, a hunt for employment in the burgeoning green economy, or a way to hone skills as technical writers, we are here in search of a venue for our ideas. Perhaps the common thread is that most of us are idealists, or perhaps, in the face of a threatened climate and an imbalanced planet, we are realists Surely the way out of our current condition is to find new ways of seeing and interpreting the world?

There are headlines telling us that global warming is upon us. If you’ve seen “An Inconvenient Truth,” you might be convinced that the fate of humanity is hanging in the balance. You might have read about the invasive “alien” kelp species that recently descended upon San Francisco Bay or the attempts by California officials to conduct “cloud seeding,” -- to overcome drought conditions by manipulating the weather. Whatever the case, you are probably concerned. You may have even become convinced that now is the time to roll up your sleeves, to get serious about recycling plastic, conserving water or pursuing a sustainable business model. And, like me, you may have decided to try to help find answers for the question marks that show up when we talk about the future.

As four o’clock approaches, Robin invites us outdoors for a short walk,, to get a sense of the small ecosystems around our classroom. We visit a cool grove of mature oak trees, where he explains the basic processes of photosynthesis, and all the furious activity that is taking place in this sheltering place, even in the stillest, most peaceful moment. We stroll down a narrow winding path, part of which functions as a kind of right-of-way for a family of deer to wander between northern and southern clusters of trees. We pass native and non-native plants, taking special note of the French Broom and the Poison Oak. Finally the path convenes at a depressed area in the earth, where some reed-like plants cluster at the base of the hill. Robin calls this a “vernal pool”—a name which to me conjures a colorful moment in an Esther Williams/Busby Berkeley film. The term intrigues me enough to search for it later on the internet.

Vernal pools, also called ephemeral pools are, according to Wikipedia, “temporary pools of water” that are typically “at their peak depth in the spring.” The language become more evocative: “Despite being dry at times, once filled they teem with life…In vernal pools, flowering occurs simultaneously because of the seasonality of favorable conditions.” The scientific processes of how a dry depression in the earth can transform into a teeming, flower-ringed oasis evade me, though of course water is the key. It occurs to me that this geographic feature may be an accurate symbol for the status of our dear state of California, which seems a vernal pool gone dry for too many seasons, and yet so enchantingly capable of springing once more back to life.

A car passes me on the freeway and I read the famous bumper sticker: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention,” and I feel the familiar urge to pump my fist in the air. Then, I wonder if the assumption is fair: If we are paying attention, must we be outraged? And furthermore, if we become outraged, is it even possible to pay attention? There is yet so much to be outraged about; seemingly everything we read these days--from low wages to skin cancer and the price of bread. And yet, to what (or whom) are we paying our attention? In a cost-benefit analysis, who benefits from all this paying-out of our most precious resource? Is the newspaper or television telling us something that we can’t already read through direct experience? Certainly my two-year-old son benefits visibly from my attention. Would nature be enhanced if that was where our attention was paid?

Unpaved nature is so unfamiliar for a city dweller like me that I can’t walk out on natural land without taking special note; like most, I enjoy the experience of traveling to a new city or place and having to reckon with strange languages and customs. Here, I walk one foot before the other and consider whether I am walking over the homes of ants and insects, and wonder why small sprouts of new growth appear only on one side of a tree. Here, on a small hill behind Merritt College in good old Oakland, I face the familiar and the unfamiliar compressed into the same moment and place, and I slip between a razor focus on the now, and resorting to what I know about this school, this city, this earth and sun, from all my previous moments of experience.

We will, no doubt, be learning how to pay attention here. That is part and parcel of the writing process, whether or not one engages purposefully with the outer environment. As I put my pen to the paper or fingers to the keyboard, I dip into some part of myself that is always engaged (even when the rest of me is distracted) and always commenting on the ironies and oddities of my life. The voice is there, even when it is not. In this class, however, I hope to find new layers of engagement –so by learning more about the earth and the changes that are taking place, I can see more of the details around me, and through those details I can find more to say about the earth and what is happening.
Now, walking over the speckled patterns of sun under the oak canopy, as the trees go about their busy work of converting carbon dioxide and sunlight into sustenance and then releasing the very oxygen we breathe, I feel grace rather than outrage. I sense the grace of a natural world that tolerates us in the face of all we do to alter it. I feel my own gratitude for the privilege of experiencing moments like these. And it is there where I find the motivation for bothering to write in a world of so many, many words.

Welcome to Environmental Writing ENVMT

We publish writing by students in our Environmental Management & Technology Program classes at Merritt College in Oakland, CA.