Expect complicated.
I’m not sure what I hoped to find out by majoring in Environmental Studies (ENVS), but I could have never predicted where it would take me. I was attracted to the major because I tend to be a generalist–someone who is interested in learning about the whole spectrum of all there is to know. ENVS as a program works hard to ensure that students get a healthy amount of both, and acknowledges that breadth and depth, general and specific knowledge, complement each other in unpredictable ways. That has been one of the most exciting aspects of my education! It is a thrill to find crossovers between what seems to be radically different subject material.
The tendency to be a generalist is a strength of mine–StrengthsQuest told me so. Input is the word they use to describe how I derive great satisfaction from collecting: knowledge, stories, artifacts, memories. Hesitant to accept a personality quiz’s label of my magical intricate self, this one was pretty spot on.
These generalist leanings sometimes conflicts with my desire (and often times the requirement) to commit unwaveringly to a certain topic, but “input” has room for both. So, while I may make me seem like a greedy little autumn squirrel or some insincere Sophist (low-key one of my biggest fears since reading Plato in E&D… that my knowledge will seem disingenuous or contrived), it’s not like that.
I like to visualize the “input” part of my brain like the infinite filing cabinet in Bruce Almighty, and I envision a row of geodes and crystalline rocks lined up neatly on top. I gather all these memories, stories, and bits of trivia and neatly file them away–color coded, georeferenced, and with a series of categories and tags, of course–and keep on display my proudest pieces. These are my present interests, or the knowledge I’m using right now. But the greatest satisfaction for me comes from opening up the drawer and plucking out that folder way in the back; drawing out that dusty old tidbit and finding its relevance in what I am presently doing. (Not a perfect metaphor because it’s not such a passive process, but you get the gist.)
So for me, a huge part of the appeal of ENVS was this magnificent opportunity to “do it all” and form those delicious connections. Which, of course, comes with limitations. Stumbling into these ended up being the most difficult part. Confronting the stark reality of my own limits (time, energy, focus, stamina) and the limits around me resulted in my fair share of existential crises, and ultimately some of the most important realizations of my career.
For one, I have come to know myself. I recognize my limits, understand how I deal with stress, and have worked to find ways to be better at it and manage myself as a whole being. It’s a continuous process…. But I know that what I want (to learn ALL OF THE THINGS and be ALL OF THE PLACES) often runs counter to what I can realistically achieve well (SOME OF THE THINGS). The millennial’s nemesis Fear Of Missing Out plays a part in this I’m sure, but it is also just how my brain works. I am a self-advocate and I take pride in this identity.
I know what nourishes my soul. Though not always the best at acting on it without some kind of motivation, I know what makes me feel alive and whole. I needed to learn content to get here: classes like ENVS 160, Gender in Rhetoric and Media, Constructing the American Landscape, first semester Exploration & Discovery, and other courses in religious studies, history, and international affairs, gave me a language to think and talk about the world. Then beyond the classroom, the communities I have found in ENVS, in the theatre, in activism, and in so many other corners have helped me to realize what I value in my relationships and my community. The classroom was never a closed system–it has always extended far beyond the walls and been integrated into the rest of my life here.
I can name my interests and speak articulately about what I know (except for my thesis, don’t ask me about that yet!).
I know that I know so little. Yes, Socrates was onto something. Now imagine little “input”-centric me, realizing the universe is just this gaping hole of *all I do not know*, and the feeling of sheer overwhelm to consider what it would take to know more.
Now, I realize I have not spoken much about specific ENVS knowledge and that may seem strange. I truly struggle to answer when people ask me what I’m studying, or “what will you do with an Environmental Science Studies degree anyway?” I know the answer they are hoping for is “Oh, I study nature and the environment! I love plants and dirt, and pollution is icky. Let’s just all hug trees instead!” But if you’ve spent even an hour in any ENVS class, you are probably cringing like I’ve just scraped a metal pipe against a chalkboard. That is because while most of what I’ve just said is true, I am certain that this does not convey the nuance of my education, and that nuance is everything to me.
To be honest, the “content” of Environmental Studies is not where the true learning happens. It is in learning how to think, inquire. I can ask questions and solve problems creatively. I can be critically engaged in public policy decisions and rethinking community. I can convey information in meaningful and effective ways. I can listen intently and empathize with ideas I may not agree with. I can find my voice and share it widely.
So yes, I study “nature,” but not at all in the way one might expect. I study “the environment,” but engage with it knowing that this word alone signifies very little substance on its own.
I have learned to embrace complicated.
Was this what I was expecting? No way! But would I change for anything? Not a chance.