Digging a Little Deeper
By Caitlin Berry
Coming into college it’s easy to forget responsibility past personal hygiene, which still proves difficult for some, but it’s also easy to forget that individual actions within a community reflect the community as a whole. A strong sense of independence evolves when we move away from our parents and our actions are subject to the rule of our desires and priorities. However, aside from the independence, we need to cooperate to produce the environment we’ve been lucky to enjoy. Vermont has many beautiful mysteries within its hills and valleys; as a member of Green Mountain College, I have recognized as our duty to promote and replenish the ecological preserve we use to recreate.
Green Mountain has been blessed with neighboring nature preserves such as Deane and Hay Stack among other hiking trails used for research and recreation. With these places at GMC’s disposal it has been made possible to test and demonstrate the impact we have on the environment, and how recreation can be advanced into a strong learning medium for these college programs. Being a Communications major at GMC, I’m not as readily offered the opportunity or availability to partake in the successes and movements towards the preservation of the earth, forcing me to get out and dig a little deeper.
Fortunately, a number of my friends are Adventure Recreation majors and are the leaders of these treks into the woods that help guide us in the right direction toward preserving our wild classroom. One day a good friend of mine had mentioned her afternoon would entail taking an Images class out to Deane Nature preserve for trail building. We grabbed some scary looking tools and crammed into a bus I hadn’t ridden since high school; what had I gotten myself into?
After a fifteen minute drive we pulled down a long dirt road and stopped at what looked like someone’s personal driveway and piled out into the yard. The leaders began to divvy up the tools amongst the volunteers from the class; I grabbed the scariest looking one called a Maddox, which was nothing less than a destroyer. As we began to hike up the trail I had slight regrets about grabbing the Maddox, not only the most destructive but the heaviest as well. Huffing and puffing my way up the trail I finally caught up to the rest of the group.
With no straight-forward direction our leaders began to scale the trail prototype and dig in. That’s when I felt the impact, the discovery of my own potential. While I dug into the earth and tore up its roots and rocks, I began to see a small dirt section of trail, a small section I could call my own. I had created a footprint that would lead others without the intuition of direction; a bit of history that could eventually one day be discovered by my own kids.
I stomped down on the earth to smooth out the rough edges, and paced across a bit on the section I had just tore up so I could really see my progress. Just as I was about to revel in my euphoric accomplishments the group was being summoned to the bottom. After that day I made it my personal mission to include myself on as many of these trail crews arranged by the Recreation department.
The next time, on the way there, I stared out the window at the trees. I felt incompetent and unfulfilled. It was as if I knew I could be doing more to help the progression of this project as well as others I might not even know about. I questioned my major and if it was the right road for me: was writing the best exploitation of my capabilities? was I doing my best to compensate for my individual footprints? It didn’t feel like it this particular day. When we arrived at the trail, I began attacking with a bit more tenacity this time. I felt this brewing rage to dig myself into a realm of worth. Nothing could come between me and the rage I threw behind the Maddox.
I wanted to feel fulfilled again, like the first time I had come out. I wondered if these recreation leaders felt success in their accomplishments knowing they were getting class credit. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t resent them for the credit they were receiving; in fact, I’m lucky to have friends that include me in their crews regardless of my major or goals. They recognized I had hands and a heart to guide them. However, it seemed to me that the Recreation department and Images classes were the only two groups aimed to accomplish this project. I wondered why Communications majors weren’t sent out into the field when this is a common goal for the greater good of this whole community and those to come. It’s wonderful that Green Mountain has become a hands-on community moving towards the preservation of local preserves, but I feel partially secluded not having that particular title.
Short URL: http://www.themountaineer.org/?p=58
Posted by Caitlin Berry
on Mar 15, 2008 Filed under First-Person, Working.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0.
You can leave a response or trackback to this entry
