Black Partridge Woods

When I was in my last year of grade school I used to take many trips to a place called Black Partridge Woods, where my eighth grade science teacher would take us bird-watching early Saturday or Sunday mornings. I loved it. I had the Peterson Guide to the Birds, a small canvas-bound volume listing every species east of the Mississippi and I carefully checked off all the different species I saw that year and in the years to follow. I still have that book and I just recounted the number. In those couple of years of going to Black Partridge Woods I recorded seeing exactly one hundred and forty species of birds. That’s right, 140 different kinds in one year. We went in all seasons that year, watching the Cardinals in winter, the spring-feathered warblers, the Robins and Blue Jays of summer and the migrating water birds of autumn so prevalent in the lake that bordered the wood.  I so loved the place, it’s Maple and Hardwood forests of mixed Oaks and Dogwoods, that to this day, I have requested that my ashes be sprinkled there. I feel like I belong there, that maybe I was a member of some peaceful Eastern Woodland Indian Tribe in another life, like the Illinois Indians that lent their name to the state or some other Central Algonquian Tribe, like the Fox, Chippewa or Shawnee. All these tribes depended on horticulture, hunting and fishing to survive. Coincidently, I got my first college degree in horticulture.

According to Colin Taylor, in his book “The Native Americans” and I quote, “at least three basic central principles were shared by [the]…people of this region. The first emphasized and defined the rights of the individual such that all actions of individuals were based on their own decisions and all group actions pivoted on the consensus of the participants. The second was that everybody shared [the basics of life such as food and shelter], and in times of want the well-being of all was to be taken into account; charity and generosity were considered paramount principles by which all should abide. The third was that man was part of nature – not outside it – he was but part of the web of the natural world and the earth and woodlands could be neither owned nor exploited.”

In principle I am in harmony with these doctrines. Of course, the reality of it all is quite different. Why is it so different? I think there are three basic reasons: first, in the age of electronic communication we may know people half-way around the world, but we rarely know our own neighbors;  second, multiculturalism, too many peoples occupying the same ground with different customs, religions and goals; and, third, a misunderstanding of the ultimate concept of ownership.

Electronic communications have made it possible for us to never leave the house, never meet our neighbor and never have to be exposed to any thing or idea that we don’t wish to be exposed to. On the surface there may be some benefit to this. We can talk to people with whom we have common interests, we can watch whatever movie we want on our smart phones, while our friends watch whatever they like, and we can “chat” with only politically, religiously and physically like-minded individuals. What’s wrong with that? Well, I’ll tell you. If you never hear a different point of view, or share the experience of watching a movie you didn’t want to see because that’s the movie your two other friends wanted to see or talk to individuals in a civil manner using more than 140 characters who have radically different ideas about what kind of government they want, how they want their kids educated or what spiritually path they choose, then you constantly reinforce your own beliefs, be they right or wrong. This habituation of thinking closes us down. We lose our ability to articulate an argument which in turn causes us to lose our creativity, ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit. And when we are challenged we become like one plagued with hallucinations who, when challenged, becomes paranoid. We begin to create a reality based on our obscurations and ideology. We isolate ourselves and intellectually wither away.

Multiculturalism is one of those “Is this a politically correct thing to talk about?” issue. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. But it must be talked about. If we isolate ourselves as I’ve already discussed, we breed contempt for those who are different. America used to be great because multiculturalism morphed into “The Melting Pot”. In other words, all those different points of view came together to make something greater than the sum of its parts. It made us tolerant and strong. We were the Promised Land. I remember travelling in Europe one time. I was going to Paris and through customs at Charles De Gaulle Airport. The Customs Signs read: EU, Americans, and Everyone Else. You know why, don’t you? They didn’t even stamp your passport. They knew that Americans would go home because the United States of America was the greatest country in the world. Do you ever hear about an emigration problem? No, only an immigration problem. We can’t keep people out. Yes, we love to travel, but we love to come home even more. Maybe this is the same for people from all over the world. I don’t know. But I know that it used to be true here. But now it seems that our virtual intellectual ghettos are reflected in our real-life existence. America has become a sea of islands with Fundamentalists living there and Jews living over there and Muslims living in Belle Glade or Detroit. Gay people live in LA or NYC or Miami and on and on it goes. We condemn our congress for not being able to come to any kind of compromise or consensus, but congress is a reflection of the electorate, so what is the surprise in that? We all have our own agenda, reinforced by our “pick and choose” method of personal interactionism.

Our third obstacle to success lies in the concept of ownership. Don’t get me wrong. I am a firm believer in capitalism. I would love to shop if I had any money. I do not vilify the rich with their private jets, for they have only achieved what we used to call “The American Dream”.  But ownership is a concept. We can accumulate lots of things, some consumable, some appreciable, and some casually referred to as durable.  I think when the Indians talked about sharing they were talking about consumables: make sure nobody goes hungry or is left out in the cold; help them when they are sick or injured. I don’t think they were talking about appreciable items like washing machines and automobiles so that leaves us with durables. As some of you know, I love to collect gemstones. Somebody asked me the other day, “How old is that Mandarin Garnet you’re wearing?” I told him, “About a hundred and fifty million years old.” My friend at the local jewelers has a “trade up” policy, that is if you buy a one carat diamond and your marriage lasts a year or ten, and you’d like to celebrate, you can trade your one carat diamond in for credit toward a larger one. One day a man looking for an engagement ring was told of the policy and asked, “What do you do with the old one?” My friend stumbled for an answer as the man walked out the door. To me, one doesn’t really own a durable. You are more of a care-taker. And if you take good care of the thing than somewhere down the road of life you can sell it or it will end of up the hands of one of your relatives. But we seem to have lost the ability to cherish durable things like rings, land and old-people. I have a friend whose father died recently and left his ranch to my friend and his sister – the  solution – sell it and divide the money. What about the land? What about the “old diamond”, what about me? I know I’m rambling a little, but my point is that there should be some point to ownership beyond pride or self-promotion. If you care for something you cherish, wouldn’t it be a joy if it landed in the hands of someone else who cherished it, maybe even just because it used to be yours? People bid on iPad covers made from Bernie Madoff’s pants pockets. What kind of weird devolution is that?

You know, the world doesn’t really care what people do. After we’ve exterminated ourselves, and if you’re a Darwinian, than some other species more fit to handle the planet at that time will become the dominate species and it won’t matter to it whether we social-networked our way into a corner, whether we killed each other off through a lack of understanding and fear, or whether we created a mind-set whereby we were defined by our ownership rather than a benefactor of it. By all means, go to Facebook and find old friends or read my blog from time to time, but get out of the house. Meet your neighbor, encourage debate and stop vilifying those with a different point of view. Take pride in your achievements, but recognize they mean nothing unless they benefit us all. Do this and you will begin to find optimism and solace.

Black Partridge Woods was a place of solace, camaraderie and joy. I haven’t been there in forty years, but I imagine it is still the same.  I counted 140 species in my book, but they weren’t mine. Their existence was a comfort and joy to all who saw them. I was looking through a bird book my grandfather used to own. I’ve recently given it to my sister to entrust to the future. It lists at least seven species that are now extinct. I hope none of my birds is extinct.  I hope each of you gets to see 140 species; it is your individual and our collective right. It will happen if we provide the basics to all living things, if we take care not to waste too many consumables and if we cherish what endures and instill a respect for the durable in our culture.