Opening the Dialogue of The Ecological Imagination

by Lyric Robinson

The ecological imagination is rooted in our ability to see ourselves as a part of the ecosystem or “nature”, rather than separate urban creatures. I have found that living all over Alberta, from Calgary to Slave Lake, I have constantly wondered where I fit in this ecosystem. Am I a forest person, dwelling in the lush trees near the lake? Listening to the loud quiet of the landscape seems to swallow the sound of the nearby town, leaving me in comfortable solitude. Am I a prairie person, watching the cows in the field? Driving slowly behind trackers on the road. Watching the multitude of colours play over the meadowland, a place considered harsh and flat, teeming with life if you step off the road and take a closer look. Am I a mountain person, dwarfed by these momentous beings? Tall, facetted, snow-covered peaks. How wise they must be, having stood in the same place for centuries, shifting and changing ever so slowly. I never felt completely welcome in any of these spaces. I didn’t believe I belonged to any of them. I felt that none of them belonged to me. I was an outsider, I didn’t want to leave a mark, and I didn’t want to make a home in this place where I had no right to exist. I knew that I had a longing for the ocean. I considered that maybe I was an ocean person, floating in a vast unknown space. A place of great mystery and depth, a holder of secrets and magic. Yet I am terrified of swimming in the ocean. I can’t go past my knees. I couldn’t make my home in the ocean either, being more fit for life on solid land. Feeling alien in every space I encounter, where could I possibly belong?

Throughout the experience of these “nature” encounters, I always came back to “civilization”. To a space where humans dominate and destroy the very “nature” around them. I continued to feel separate, from the ecosystem, but also from the very people I share this earth with. I felt more connected to something looking at the clouds or the rain. Felt more rooted in between the trees along the Bow River, than beside my own family. What do we face as a society, as a planet, being so vastly separate in our relationships with the ecosystem we live in? With the people we share ties with? The human condition, to need one another, seems to leave out the need for the ecosystem we inhabit. And I wonder if that ecosystem really needs us. How do we bridge the yawning chasm of “human” vs “nature”? This destructive and toxic one-sided relationship. Where “humans” believe that it is their right and only theirs to safety and liberty on this planet. Yet when we look around at the state of the world, it is clear that only some “humans” have this right, only some “humans” are even considered human. Just as only some of the ecosystem has this right. Only some of the multitude of creatures on this planet have this right. And this idea that only a few are worthy of care is the straw on the camel’s back of the eco-crisis the world is facing. If we can’t work together as a global community, how can we collectively push to stop the timeline of our “man-made” mass extinction?

I have spent my years reading, absorbing worlds between pages. From the time I was 12, I consumed as many books as I could get my hands on. Feeling that I had travelled the world and lived a thousand lives. All while lying in bed, sitting on a bus, waiting in line. Each world opened a new perspective, one I may not have come into contact with in my small world. The books that felt the most piercing, reaching under my heart and into the centre of my being were the stories tied to the land. Moving in harmony, or dismantling dominating power to restore a respectful relationship with the land. These stories became my touchstone, my way to understand the world around me. A way for my imagination to interact with the ecosystem. I felt solidarity with the beings of the earth, the grass, and trees, and animals and streams. I too had felt the oppression that had been placed upon them.

Ecological Literature: Fiction

Ecological fiction opens our collective imagination. When I imagine cycles, my first thought is the cycles of the seasons. The birth, death, and re-birth of the leaves, the sunflowers, the fresh baby birds each spring. When I try to imagine the future, I don’t see flying cars and hi-tech cellphones right behind my ear. I see a scorched earth, and hungry people, fighting over the small amount of water left. I see people clinging to any scrap of hope they can find. Over the last few decades, the popularity of post-apocalyptic novels, shows, and movies has taken off. The tension we “humans” feel between ourselves, the ecosystem, and the dominating capitalistic culture is manifest in our art. What did our ancestors imagine the future to be? Did they see wars, genocides, starving people, and entire generations of people struggling to survive while a few enjoy the system of destruction? How far back into the past must we go to restore hope? How far into the future must we look to realize that technology might not be able to save us?

Ecological Literature: Non-Fiction

Ecological non-fiction brings our imagination into the reality of the present. The ecosystem in non-fiction allows each perspective to provide an anchor point for examining the ecosystem and our relation to it. The perspective is key to unearthing our ideas and beliefs around our relationship to the ecosystem. Many novels I have read show a lack of regard for the ecosystem, often intersecting with a domineering, exploitative, and greedy mindset. Or worse than an outright disregard for the ecosystem, there may be an obliviousness in the narrative that fails to recognize the problematic treatment of the ecosystem. Being overly focused on human narratives, many literary works of the last three decades revolve around human experience, separate from the ecosystem in which they are experiencing life.

The Unsung Heroes of Knowledge: Librarians and Their Essential Role in the Community

by Lyric Robinson

In an age dominated by digital technology and artificial intelligence, the role of librarians remains invaluable. These custodians of knowledge serve as the heart of the community, generously sharing their expertise and insights. While platforms like Google and various AI tools provide quick answers, they cannot replace the unique contributions of librarians in the global quest for knowledge and wisdom.

As Suzanne S. Lapierre notes in her article “Will AI Take Our Library Jobs?”, the irreplaceable human element of librarianship lies in the connection they foster in the physical space of the library. Lapierre argues that while AI technology can provide information, it lacks the personal touch and depth of understanding that a librarian brings to the table (Lapierre 20). Librarians are not just information gatekeepers; they are advocates for lifelong learning, preserving knowledge and ensuring free access for all, regardless of background. Librarianship transcends expertise in referencing materials. These dedicated professionals offer myriad learning opportunities, catering to the needs of the community at all life stages.

From storytime programs for preschoolers and writing cafes for teens, to author talks for adults and language groups for new residents, librarians create a nurturing space for exploration and growth. While online options exist, as emphasized by Lapierre, “people need people.” The face-to-face interactions facilitated by librarians cannot be replicated by screens or virtual meetings (Lapierre 20). Kara Yorio reinforces this sentiment in her work “Reasons to Love Libraries,” where she gathers experiences from various authors highlighting the community-centric role of libraries. Well-known author Alan Gratz emphasizes that libraries provide a space for gathering, learning, and accessing diverse resources, from local history archives to multimedia entertainment (Yorio 22). Unlike many online services that come with hefty price tags, libraries offer free access to vital knowledge and technology, particularly for those who lack such resources at home. Moreover, the expertise of librarians in sourcing reliable information is crucial in today’s world, rife with misinformation. As Lapierre discusses, while technology, including AI, plays a significant role in disseminating information, it also raises legitimate concerns about disinformation and plagiarism (Lapierre 20).

Librarians, with their long-standing traditions of research and inquiry, continue to adapt and integrate new technologies into their work, ensuring that correct and meaningful information remains accessible to users of all skill levels. Author Stacey Abrams eloquently describes libraries as “cathedrals to who we should be as a society,” emphasizing their role as centers of learning that are open to all. They nurture curiosity, expand knowledge, and ultimately guide individuals toward better futures (Yorio 22). In our increasingly complex technological landscape, the need for librarians to assist communities in navigating these resources is more critical than ever (Lapierre 21). Innovations like text-to-speech, language translation, and various conversion applications have improved accessibility, but many still find these tools daunting.

This is where the human touch of librarians becomes essential. They not only unlock access to technology but also provide the understanding and support that technology alone cannot offer. Lapierre points out that technology thrives on human interaction; it needs people to create, maintain, and interpret it effectively (Lapierre 21). For individuals who struggle with new tools, librarians act as guides, helping them to overcome frustrations rooted in human error, misunderstanding, and anxiety surrounding technology.

In conclusion, librarians are unsung heroes in the quest for knowledge and community connection. They embody the spirit of lifelong learning, support diverse populations, and adapt to new technological challenges while maintaining the human connections that enrich our lives. As we continue to navigate a rapidly changing information landscape, let us recognize and celebrate the indispensable role of librarians in fostering a more informed and connected society.

Works Cited

Lapierre, Suzanne S. “Will AI Take Our Library Jobs?” Computers in Libraries, vol. 44, no.2, Mar. 2024 (2024): pp. 20-22.

Yorio, Kara. “Resaons to Love Libraries: They are a community’s soul, “cathedrals to who we should be as a society,” and more.” School Library Journal. June, 2024, Vol. 70 Issue 6, p20, 6p. (2024): pp. 20-25.