| | |
|
JackSherrickSecondEssay 9 - 16 May 2021 - Main.JackSherrick
|
| |
| META TOPICPARENT | name="SecondEssay" |
|---|
| | | Tens of thousands of years ago, vast glaciers inched their way across the land that would later come to be called Illinois. When the glaciers began to melt and recede to icier climes at the end of the last ice age, they left behind a 100-feet layer of rich sediment and revealed an alien terrain. The landscape had been completely flattened, extending for unwrinkled miles in every direction to the horizon, "hardly presenting a bush to relieve the eye." The glaciers' parting gift of top soil was perfect for Big Blue Stem, Compass Plants, black-eyed Susans, and the countless other prairie grasses that clung to the earth with such adamant ferocity that the landscape of Illinois has been all but impervious to the powers of erosion that threaten to alter its topography. | |
<
< | People embraced the alien landscape the glaciers left behind and learned how to live among its grassy residents. Indigenous tribes would conduct prairie burns that scorched the earth with a heat so intense that forests were unable to establish a foothold in the region. However, prairie roots run deep and the grass stems would burst forth from the enriched ground reinvigorated after each burn. Now, the prairie is all but gone, eradicated in an instant and replaced with fields of corn and soybeans. Illinois' glacial inheritance is being squandered on corn syrup and ethanol by America's Prodigal Sons. | >
> | People embraced the alien landscape the glaciers left behind and learned how to live among its grassy residents. Indigenous groups would conduct prairie burns that scorched the earth with a heat so intense that forests were unable to establish a foothold in the region. However, prairie roots run deep and the grass stems would burst forth from the enriched ground reinvigorated after each burn. Now, the prairie is all but gone, eradicated in an instant and replaced with fields of corn and soybeans. Illinois' glacial inheritance is being squandered on corn syrup and ethanol by America's Prodigal Sons. | | |
How I Got Here
I grew up in the "Prairie State" and did my best to help the area live up to its nickname. My family is involved with prairie conservation and maintains an island of native prairie amidst the sea of feed corn abutting it from all sides. We mow trails, sow seeds, and conduct prairie burns to preserve the quality of the topsoil that had been deposited there tens of thousands of years earlier. I followed the prairie to Carleton College, which boasts an 800 acre arboretum teeming with native and nonnative grasses. | |
<
< | When I moved to New York, I left the Midwest and its flat open spaces behind. I was disoriented by the looming buildings that seemed to stretch vertically into infinity yet blocked out the horizon. I felt closed in. Most of the activity done in the prairie is occurring beneath your feet in the congested webs of roots pulling nutrients from the soil and pumping them up to the gently swaying stems above. But in New York, everything seems to be happening everywhere. I learned to find refuge amongst the various parks that mottle the concrete landscape and how to appreciate the cacophony of humanity that I myself was contributing to. I started to develop roots that anchored me to the alien landscape I had moved to. I carved out a small space for myself within the large space that is New York City. | >
> | When I moved to New York from Minnesota, I left the Midwest and its flat open spaces behind. I was disoriented by the looming buildings that seemed to stretch vertically into infinity yet blocked out the horizon. I felt closed in. Most of the activity done in the prairie is occurring beneath your feet in the congested webs of roots pulling nutrients from the soil and pumping them up to the gently swaying stems above. But in New York, everything seems to be happening everywhere. I learned to find refuge amongst the various parks that mottle the concrete landscape and how to appreciate the cacophony of humanity that I myself was contributing to. I started to develop roots that anchored me to the alien landscape I had moved to. I carved out a small space for myself within the large space that is New York City. | | |
My Practice | | | Space in Law School | |
<
< | The relationship between small and large spaces is an ever-present concern in law school. Wendell Berry writes about the danger of disregarding the small spaces that allow us to enjoy the large places. He writes in his essay Contempt for Small Places, "The health of the oceans depends on the health of rivers; the health of rivers depends on the health of small streams; the health of small streams depends on the health of their watersheds. The health of the water is exactly the same as the health of the land." In the same way, my health in law school depends on my health in New York which depends on my health in Morningside Heights which depends on my health in the law school and my apartment, a space which I can call almost exclusively my own. If people do not have security in their small spaces, the chain is broken and harm reverberates from one space to the next and to the next. | >
> | The relationship between small and large spaces is an ever-present concern in law school. Wendell Berry writes about the danger of disregarding the small spaces that allow us to enjoy the large places. He writes in his essay Contempt for Small Places, "the health of the oceans depends on the health of rivers; the health of rivers depends on the health of small streams; the health of small streams depends on the health of their watersheds. The health of the water is exactly the same as the health of the land." In the same way, my health in law school depends on my health in New York which depends on my health in Morningside Heights which depends on my health in the law school and my apartment, a space which I can call almost exclusively my own. If people do not have security in their small spaces, the chain is broken and harm reverberates from one space to the next and to the next. | | | I don't value the space inside Jerome Greene Hall because it insulates me from what's outside, I value it for the people it contains on the inside. I want to set down roots along with my fellow law students to weather the erosive forces that would seek to drag us towards money, dissociation, or a what without a why. I want to remain anchored to a why so each setback, failure, and burn doesn't uproot me but rather restores me so I can spring back up more energized than before.
|
|
|
|
|
This site is powered by the TWiki collaboration platform.
All material on this collaboration platform is the property of the contributing authors.
All material marked as authored by Eben Moglen is available under the license terms CC-BY-SA version 4.
|
|
| | |