Down in the Valley

INTRODUCTION

By Lucy Spangler

The focus of this theme is reflecting on childhood experiences with nature, examining the early life lessons we learn from them, and understanding the intangible impact of the natural world. “Down in the Valley” is the title of a lullaby my mother used to sing for me, and hearing it immediately brings me back to my childhood of playing in my mother’s garden, crashing through the woodland parks of my hometown, and exploring the hidden worlds of tide pools during summer afternoons at the beach. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that those days of carefree play taught me to be curious about the world and helped me understand my place in it. I also learned that the natural world where I made those memories is a finite resource being depleted. I worked as an editor for last semester’s edition, and I was inspired to pitch this theme after seeing the creative interpretations of the prompt for that issue.

“Down in the Valley” Staff

Aaron Tyler

Abigayle Arsenault

Alex Lang

Alex Walulik

Allison Po

Anissa Eisenberg

Birdi Diehl

Cherie Laroche

Coco Meyerhofer

Ella Posey

Emma Brooke

Exectutive Board

Victoria Hoffmann

Amelia Oei

Gabel Strickland

Shreya Partha

Tazzy Zaster

Exavier Orlino

Fatima Swaray

Genevieve Peters

Gianna Silar

Hannah Yellen

Isabel Gallego

James Long

Kate Valentine

Kiersten Holley

Leila Minkara

Liz Gilbert

Lucy Spangler

Maried Delgadillo

Matthew Provler

Maya MenonFreeman

Natia Kirvalidze

Olivia Deceasare

Sasha Gayko

Sofia Quinonesrios

Sydney Cohen

Taryn Noonan

Tilly Steck

My most vivid childhood memories are the ones in my mother’s garden. Every April, when the last traces of snow turned to mud, we churned the

Reach

to the Sun

By Lucy Spangler

“Sometimes we don’t grow as fast as we want to.”

dirt that lined our walkway and buried freshly bloomed Perennials. With cheery Primroses, demure Daffodils, bold Crocuses, and charming Violes, our front yard became a technicolor welcome banner for Spring.

One spring day, she drove me to the local church on the hill. The entrance was covered in signs adorned with yellow flowers: “Sunflowers Here! More Inside!”

We filed into a large room full of rows of white tables covered in paper cups. I went up to one and saw it was filled with dirt; each had a tiny green sprout with two leaves on the top.

I was a bit confused. These didn’t

look anything like what was advertised, but my mother was the smartest person I knew, and if she said these were Sunflowers, I believed her.

“You can pick one out,”, “we’ll take it home and add it to the garden.” I gingerly picked up one of the cups, “I like this one!”

At home under my mother’s supervision, I dug a hole and nestled my sprout inside, its new home. I watered it and sat back: now it was time to watch her grow.

Every morning I looked out my kitchen window, expecting to see a giant yellow flower blocking out the sun, but nothing had changed.

Weeks turned to months, spring boiled and evaporated into summer. I began getting discouraged.

One morning I got so sad that

Istarted crying, my mother asked what was wrong: “Am I doing something wrong? Why won’t she grow?”

My mother smiled and wiped my tears. “Oh, my love,” she said. “I know it’s frustrating, but sometimes we don’t grow as fast as we want to.”

So I kept at it. Every morning that August I went out to visit my sprout with a pitcher of water. I’d kneel in the freshly drenched grass and press my palms into the mud and whisper “I know you can do it.”

Then, in early September, as the first cool breeze of Fall blew in, it finally happened.

It was worth it.

I woke up and looked out the window, and there she was. Standing tall like a beanstalk, with a bright round face turned up towards the sun. She was a whole head taller than my big brother, (which meant gigantic) and she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

I stood there underneath her shade, looking up into her warm face, and smiled: “I’m glad you took your time,” I said, “it was worth it.”

Monachopsis

( sprouted into my skin)

By Birdi Diehl

down in the valley where the grass whispers secrets at the junction where the lake turns to the willow in love i have found peace in the water’s reflection how it smiles back as if it knows how i have grown and the way the wood mocks the dent i left in the grass where i lay

it is laughing with me in each breath

i have traced circles in the sky and named them after book titles compliments to the paperbacks i have devoured i have taken from the leaves blowing in the wind they drop like starlight, beading onto my cheeks in constellation and

they are carved in nighttime lullabies and remembrance

(i have finally been able to wrap my head around the planet and understand that warmth no longer means possibility) [i have made a crown of buckwheat and blackberry jam]

i sit with the tree that wears as years pass just as the ground erodes patches gone to the wind

as the air warms against my skin each year; sticking like honey against the grain of hair and matted

peace does not come with the dimming of the fire in your chest

*it changes like the hands on father time’s face; etched and erasable

i cannot describe how it feels to burn but soothe the babe cries from the crib built of the wheat and its burning and it will continue without warning the earth is spinning

& heated from the haze

ignited from what was taken from nature and never returned in springtime flowers

and how we have taken their saturation in feelings of rose quartz, lapis lazuli, and emerald we have stolen them and called them our flesh.

it defines the antithesis of freedom

the air sticking to our skin means we cannot escape it; we are stuck;

i can not breathe in this heat. can you?

Take Me Back to Saturated Days

of traffic and police sirens were beginning to get to me. It seemed as if they played on a loop each night. The world around me began to feel more and more dull, as if the winter drained all

ment of renewal and a breath of fresh air. I was taken to a place of serenity. I was a kid without a care in the world again, exploring forbidden forests and eating sandwiches after a long beach day. It’s as if nature was consoling me, healing the wounds the city brought upon me.

Healing Your Relationship With Nature

By Emma Brooke

Photo by Ria Wipperfurth

On a vertical campus, there is typically not much interaction between nature and the student. Each one of us students has a different relationship with nature, and what we go to her for. Whether you never had much interaction with nature or miss it daily, there are plenty of ways to connect with nature here at Emerson. I believe that college is a great time to fix or strengthen the bridge between you and the natural world. On Boylston, we are right across the street from two of the best natural escapes for the people of Boston. The Bos - ton Common and Public Garden are great places to find peace in the chaos. Reading a book, playing a game, meditating, or just enjoy - ing the scenery are great ways to interact with these places. Liv - ing in the northeast of the U.S., the leaves eventually fall and the warmth fades. But still, going to the Common and Garden gives you a breath of fresh air. In December, Boston lights up the trees in the Common. This is beautiful as the snow begins to fall. Although the green is gone, the city does a great job of making these spaces stun - ning. Once in a desired natural space, one of my favorite things to do is just focus on my breathing. Being in a city makes us some - times forget that we are part of nature. Bring a journal, and begin to write what you enjoy about your surroundings. Once you know your way around the Common and Garden, go to the Esplanade. Sitting on the Charles River, the Esplanade immerses you in nature while also giving you a view of a body of water. Next time you feel caught up in the midst of your work or just life, go to nature. She’s there for you.

Sunflower

By Alex Walulik

On spring’s day, it was the ray of light With half-broken memories that are lost forever To nothingness that was beautiful. The sunflowers’ petals fallen; gone like memories Lay on the path to peacefulness.

With overgrown jeans, I am here; By time of returning, the chirping will be silent Like children who are never the same. But what I adore, is the everlasting blossom Who returns alone beyond the seasons; And what I imagine are the tiny fingers That are held by a dying friend –

Movement is within the world: who chooses to stop Broken to a point beyond the sunflower.

The Importance of Nature for Children

By Alex Walulik

The vastness of nature and spending time outdoors as a child shaped me as an individual, a now-young adult. Currently, we are in a society centered around the Internet, cellphones, and social media. One in which children are being introduced to such things at an earlier age than ever before, and one that encourages both children and adults to spend more time on devices, rather than outdoors. We see it in our schools, our summer camps, our media. While social media and the Internet have their plethoras of benefits, the negative impacts on children are evident. Spending time in nature creates an entire world and dimension for a child that we, as adults, can often no longer comprehend. There is nothing more powerful than a child’s imagination.

My friends and I would pretend we were fighting aliens in a faraway galaxy or discovering hidden treasure in an unexplored land when we were younger. The outdoors provide more stimuli to explore than the static of a bedroom or online platform,

thus fostering imagination. We lose this as we grow older; when we spend more time indoors and on screens, the hopefulness for endless possibilities disappears. I think back to the days when I believed anything was possible. That way of thinking can certainly be attributed to my abundance of time spent running around, exploring the woods behind my house, and biking around the neighborhood with my friends — playing outdoors. It didn’t matter if I was alone, or that many of the faraway galaxies or hidden treasures weren’t possible or real. What mattered was that I believed they were, and that made them real.

One of the most powerful things in the world, for both adults and children, is hope. That being said, it is vital for adults, not only to stress the importance of spending time in nature to their children, but also to actively protect and care for these green spaces. These ecosystems and imaginary dimensions are far more important to those that live in them.

How to Build Faerie Houses

By Tilly Steck

I have scars on my hands from faeries. Or from believing in faeries, at least. For six years, I built faerie houses across my yard, and webs of lore between them that were impossibly dense. Building faerie houses is a spiritual experience, worth revisiting, even if just for the quintessential childhood feeling that nature is something huge and magical. Here are three styles you can build yourself.

Sticks and Stone

This is a very simple method for building a structure out of natural materials. You are going to need a location with soft dirt and some kind of wind break, ideally a large tree.

Large trees, especially with above-ground root systems, are generally the best place to build these, being a pre-existing mystic system of caverns and tunnels and secretpassages for your fairies.

Some people seem to think it’s alright to stick a door in a knot of a tree and call it a faerie house. They are wrong.

An exception for the rarest treasure in faerie house building: an old tree or stump already given a once-over by our construction team (pillbugs and termites), hollowed out, and ready to fulfill its potential.

Next is a set of sticks about the same height. Minimum 4, but 6–8 is the best. You don’t want them to be straight and unbranched — ideally, the four corner-sticks would have a fork at the top.

Twist them into the dirt and use a stone or the back of your shoe to pound the ground and pack it into place. Now it won’t fall apart when it rains.

It also helps to have a little divot in the center of the structure, like a conversation pit (but that’s a style choice).

Collect a second pile of straight, various length sticks and pull a small bouquet of long, flat grasses, the kind you really should be able to whistle with, but never figured out how.

Lay the two longest sticks in an “X” between the forked corners, making sure they’re anchored. Wind the grass around them in a kind of back-and-forth pattern. You can tuck the tail-end into the wrap if you’ve done it right, and use that base to extend outward into an entire square, binding when necessary.

This style in my garden was the back of the faerie society and farthest away from the rest of the houses. It had its own church in a broken terracotta pot, showing an understanding of the concept of a schism years before I heard the word. These faerie dwellers were lonelier, and their trade was tense (they had to leave their goods by the stone bench several long feet away, and had some history of trouble at the all-yard festival when the blackberry fruits ripened).

A stone goes in the middle. It should be flat and round and smooth and serve as a dining table. That’s true of every house I ever built.

Mosses and stores of food (acorns, onion grass, dandelion leaves, etc) and acorn cups and windows and decorations came and went, but I really liked that the faeries had a place to eat together.

Tree Bark Manor

You need tree bark in long, thick sheets. Get it from the pile where the logs shed, where your Dad spends hours chopping wood (even though you live in a city).

There will be worm tracks making patterns through the underside of the bark. It’ll be wet and maybe mildewy but that’s alright.

As far as location, base walls are a must. Rocks are ideal, but two trees close to each other will work. You need two surfaces. The stones go inside and outside, buried mostly underneath thedirt, which is less soft there, but you can scrabble away at it.

Leave enough space between the stones for the walls. If the walls start leaning in (they will)...

Find a short, broad stick to anchor between them. This is why they’re thick, so you can use the knobbly end to bore in shallow holes to keep the beam in place.

This was the biggest house, which collapsed at least twice a day.

The roof should be one sheet of bark, with broken gaps and holes that can be filled with small pieces the wrong size or shape. You can grind away at them on the mica and cover your hands in mulch.

It will become your favorite smell in the world

Never successfully built one. Try a cairn.

The Patience-testing Stone Fortress

Hidden in the Leaves

By Exavier Orlino

The wind, it whispers in my ear

All the life I wish to know.

Birds, they sing of fears

Perched on leafless trees.

Beyond My World

By Matt Provler

Follow me, my journey

To a place unknown

Where the trees

Are lush, and evergreen

Take my hand, And you’ll see, Little bumblebee,

What the world has in store

For us. A life

Beyond these scalding tears

Burning on my cheeks

For what this world Has given us

So where are the fields

Bright with flowers?

Where are the lives

Without this pain?

And where, Oh where,

Does the sweet bird sing Of hopes and dreams?

The wind, it holds my future

And carries its seed

To the promised

Nature Walk

By Liz Gilbert

Frog and Toad Are Friends

“I cannot see anything.” “Don’t be silly,” said Frog.

“What you see is the clear warm light of April. And it means that we can begin a whole new year together, Toad. Think of it,” said Frog.

Photo Series By Leila Minkara and Fatima Swaray

“We will skip through the meadows and run through the woods and swim in the river.”

In the evenings we will sit right here on this front porch and count the stars”

The Hike

By Natia Kirvalidze

As of August 2013, I declare: I will never, in good conscience, hike again. Mom says it’s just another 20 minutes before we reach the village; the name of it I’ve already forgotten, but my little legs are burning.

As tired as I am, I can’t ignore the view. Dark green mountains roll on and on around our small path, dominating my vision and competing with the sky. Tall, gentle trees surround us. They shade us slightly from the sun’s rays and lead us up a killer incline as our shoes crunch on rocks and gravel. I fill my lungs with the crisp air while my nose delights in the smell of freshly wet grass. The leaves whisper overhead as the wind caresses them.

“Can we slow down?” I whine to anyone who will listen. My siblings and cousins are talking amongst themselves as they lead in the front. My sister had found a huge tree branch to use as a walking stick 2 kilometers ago and looks like one of those expert hikers we’ve crossed paths with today. Mom and Dad stick close to me to make sure I don’t fall off the edge of a cliff or something. I don’t know what they’re worried about. Mom’s the one with balance issues.

“We’re going as slow as you set the pace, darling,” Dad says in his baby voice.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” I hear my brother huff from several paces ahead. He turns around, walks to me, and squats down in front of me, his back to me. “Jump on.”

From my new glorious seat, I get to look up as much as I want. The clouds look like animals. I see a whale chasing a horse, a turtle lounging on a couch, and a dragon shooting fire down onto the Caucasus Mountains. So as it turns out, hiking may not be so bad.

Youthful Activities in Nature

By Natia Kirvalidze

• Falling asleep on the beach

• Building a snowman

• Building a sand castle

• Building a snow tower

• Stacking rocks on the beach

• Making snow angels

• Rolling down a hill

• Racing across a park

• Counting stars

• Walking on grass barefoot

• Skipping rocks

• Playing tag amongst the trees

• Getting grass stains on jeans

• Swinging on a tire swing

• Stepping on crunchy leaves

• Leaving footprints in mud or snow

• Climbing a tree

• Scraping your knee

• Hiking with loved ones.

“Let

“Let Us Be Elegant or Die!”

By Alex Lang

houses in Waltham where the

“LittleWomen”(2019)movi

The W alk

By Genevieve Peters

Quiet Freedom

By Ella Posey

Mom hollers to me to get up. Humph. I let out a heaping sigh as I tense up my whole body until it’s as long as humanly possible. My eyes start to lighten up because this is my favorite part of my day… most of the time. Today I’ll wear my hot pink skort and light purple tank top (from last year). It’s a little small on me, probably, but it’s my favorite color so I don’t care. “Oh, Sweety, you need to put a t-shirt or something over that,” Mom says as soon as I step into the kitchen.

By Ella Posey

“But I love this shirt, and it goes good with the pink and if I put a shirt over it, no one will see its awesome color!” I protest, but I know that I always lose this battle.

Mom gives me a downward glance, “it goes well,” and I turn back to my room to change. And this repeats. ***

At school I trace my finger around the scrapes in my desk. I can almost find them with my eyes closed at this point. Mrs. Prinkett says “sit up straight,” but my head gets so heavy from the tone of her voice. It just drones on and on, I can’t help it. Today we’re starting to learn about multiplication. I think I understand it alright, and I even finish the work sheet with some time to spare. So I follow the playing birds through the window.

Mrs. Prinkett thinks I don’t know much because she can’t read my writing so well. Whenever I turn in pa pers she has a million things cir cled with question marks and I have to stay in for re cess sometimes to to her what I working on her. And this repeats.

Today feels like summer for the first time this year. That means school is almost over and I’m almost done with third grade. I feel big as I walk home and the sun makes me squint.

I didn’t even mean to, I think, but instead of walking home after school, I found myself at the pond by the edge of town. The sun makes an outline of the trees and makes the water look like orange juice. I slip off my backpack and shoes and socks and feel the cold pebbles wiggle their way between my toes. I find a patch of lilacs that matches my favorite tank top, and pick some that I put by my backpack. I walk forward until my feet are just about to touch the water. I poke my big toe out and watch a ripple get sent out to the middle of the pond. I take off my sweatshirt so I have my purple tank top on, that goes with my skort, while I wade my way into the water. When the water reaches my tummy, I take a deep breath and dunk myself under. I flap my hands to stay underwater and blow bubbles out of my nose and mouth. My thin hair floats all around my head, and I am free. Under here, Mom or Mrs. Prinkett can’t tell me what to do. I run out of air and push myself off of the sandy pond floor, shooting out of the water like a rocket— strong and powerful.

get back to the rocky a few reeds and braid them into halos and stick in some of the lilacs I picked from earlier. I lay with my head against my backpack and close my eyes and lose track of time until I notice that the sun is almost gone. I skip all the way home.

Stay Here Forever

By Hannah Yellen

Photos by Maried Delgadillo

I stand on the shore, watching her roar As the shouts almost seem like screams of terror. I run away from her grasp, cold and bitter Yet, she beckons me closer

I find myself wading deeper into the water. Once engulfed in her expanse, she owns you. I watch as a wave comes closer, growing larger, She grabs me by the crook of my neck, and I am swept away

I leave and I swear to never return Only watching as the waves reach out further. I try to ignore the way she entices me, But from afar she looks so pretty

I can see the way she lets the sun dance along her surface, And the shells she provides on the sand.

I hear the siren song she sings, it calms me like a lullaby. She welcomes me to brave a second chance

I feel the water wash over me, cool and gentle, Seaweed brushes past my legs and gets tangled in my hair. It wants to pull me in and keep me there. I want to stay here forever in her warm embrace

Sweet Girl

By Coco Meyerhofer

Sweet girl

Reminds me of a folk song I’ve heard before Of big, silver hair clips holding me together, Pinning me on my sides to prevent me from spilling

Over the edges, But my fringes leak, Sweet girl

Still tells everyone I’m endless.

Sweet girl

Has soft gills, Gets her sweater sleeves wet on purpose, Loses coins in my waves and doesn’t mind,

Is like a sparkling fish, She jumps, I crash, Sweet girl,

Floats to my surface the way she always does.

Sweet girl

Collects seashells, hides them in a shoebox,

Doesn’t visit me as often, But when she does,

I cradle her in my palms, She sits between my lips, I don’t close my mouth,

Sweet girl

Would never treat me like a closed door.

Sweet girl

Gets bigger

Puts my big, silver clips in her yellow hair, Pulls her hair out of her face,

Is like a swan from an ugly duck, She doesn’t come near me,

Sweet girl

Is afraid to get wet.

Sweet girl

She goes far away, She never comes home, She reminds me of everyone else Who leaves me, who grows up, I washed her footprints away as soon as they came,

Sweet girl

Tears my heart in half like paper.

By Olivia DeCesare

Centipedes, spiders, snakes: the mere mention of such critters is distressing. We so quickly call for death, our comfort intrinsically more valuable than their existence. Yet, in the same breath, we propagate our appreciation of nature. We praise the beauty of butterflies, peacocks, doves, sunsets, and waterfalls. We name ourselves the appreciators of art, yet what qualifies us to be the arbiters other than our talent to destroy?

Children trumpet dandelions as beautiful flowers, save the worms off the sidewalks and march with ants. Through smaller eyes, we are just as much part of the natural world as the critters adults detest. A calm beach is just as full of awe as the muddy puddles of a storm. The desire to carve the environment into classes of aesthetic is taught, not inherently known. We denounce dandelions as weeds, are repulsed by dirty earthworms, and exterminate ants without remorse. The moth is virtually no different from the butterfly: it has natural allure and worth. There is wonder and goodness in everything, even the things we are so quick to deem gross and hideous.

And yet, humanity does not create the artistry it seeks in the world, but rather perpetuates an offensiveness beyond anything toads, mosquitoes, or flies could ever imagine – The most grotesque scenes are the dense smokestacks covering the beloved sunset and the impenetrable layers of plastic lining our shores. We feel the power to distribute the title of beauty and simultaneously siphon it dry.

We impose our standards of grace, condemn what does not fit this standard, and devastate all nature– even what conforms to our guidelines– to support our most trivial desires. We are narcissists. By the time you fall asleep tonight, dozens of species will have died in unwilling sacrifice for your luxuries. I am not better; even the laptop with which I write this article is just one part of a malicious infrastructure, stealing energy and resources from the environment around me.

Despite our artificial position as the eye of the beholder, humanity pours ugliness into the world, and despite being born connected to Mother Nature, our hubris severs this link. We perform the great hypocrisy: we destroy our home and scold the ashes.

Creepy Crawlers

By Ella Posey

When you turn over a rock It may have been with your foot Kicking it 8 feet ahead of you

But when you turn over a rock

Using your bare hands

And pry it from its nestled home in the dirt, Collecting stories in your fingernails,

You’ll find a whole world, A magical ecosystem, Situated under our footsteps.

And you take a moment

To discover the world Of hidden lives, Of creepy crawlers

Legs scatter back into the earth While some stick To the face of the stone.

Nonetheless, These bugs are together as one— One community, One harmony, One family.

The ones with the legs Hug each other tight (They’re the best at that)

The ones with the wings Tell stories of other rock homes (They inspire adventures)

The ones with the pincers Protect their loved ones (They’re honored)

But when you replace this rock, You stand up again to see That we’re not all so different From this bug community.

Plastic Wars Review

By Sasha Gayko

The film Plastic Wars presents us with the many ways plastic pollution has affected our environment. The film demonstrates how much of our plastic waste ends up in the ocean and harms wildlife. Our health is also impacted by the contamination in our food and water supply due to the microplastics and toxins within the materials we use.

The oil and gas industry has been focused on restricting recycling education for the last 40 years to ensure that it can continue making money from manufacturing plastic from fossil fuels. When plastic first began garnering a bad rep, plastic production companies began losing money, which negatively impacted the oil and gas industry since they lost that source of income. With recycling programs in place, they were able to get Americans back on board with single-use plastics. However, these programs were ineffective in combating plastic pollution. Much of plastic in the modern age is considered “mixed plastics” which can’t be broken down and repurposed at recycling centers. Laura Leebrick, manager of Government Affairs Rogue Disposal, states in the film that “until there is a viable option for recycling those things, we should be putting it in a landfill.” The film also informs us that it is expensive to recycle plastic waste in general, meaning that recycling plants end up disposing of some of the plastic they receive. This process consists of shipping it off to another country.

the amount of plastic being produced, since it is not considered economically feasible to eradicate it.

There is a level of deceit from the plastic industry about whether or not their products are recyclable. Many consumers are led to believe their waste can be sent to recycling centers when in reality, a majority of that waste can not be repurposed. A lot of that waste is contaminated, so it must be burned, which has an even larger impact on our environment. After speaking with a New Harvestindo worker, investigative correspondent Laura Sullivan was led to a community in Indonesia where much of the waste is left. She stated, “after a 30-minute drive, we reached a quiet neighborhood with an area hidden from the road. The smell of burnt plastic was in the air, and all around there were sacks of plastic, and big piles, too.” She cites one study that estimates that 60% of ocean plastic comes from Asia, but Lauren then reveals that most of that plastic waste has been imported from America.

“After a 30-minute drive, we reached a quiet neighborhood with an area hidden from the road. The smell of burnt plastic was in the air, and all around there were sacks of plastic, and big piles, too.”

It’s frustrating to see in this film the damage being done to our planet by these corporations and how much they deceive the general public. Now that plastic has contaminated our water, soil, and air, we must look for new ways of suppressing further pollution. Voting on policies that combat the efforts of these large corporations can help enact change and lead our communities to a better, sustainable environment that does not harm our health.

The U.S. Government plays a big role in plastic pollution through its lack of initiative. It works in favor of the gas/ oil industry by not holding them accountable for misleading the public. In the film, David Allaway from the Oregon Department of Environmental Quality expressed that “science tells us that we need to significantly reduce our use of materials overall, and yet for the most part, the policymakers are still focused with laserlike intensity on recycling.” There need to be policies in place that can at least regulate

ABOUT THE FILM

Title: Plastic Wars

Produced by: Frontline PBS

Runtime: 54 minutes

Platforms: Available on the PBS website and YouTube

MUD SOUP RECIPE

By Natia Kirvalidze

Ingredients

• Mud

• Water

• Leaves (optional)

• Flowers (optional)

• Sticks

• Rocks

• Sand (optional)

Preparation

Nutrition Information- Inedible

Tips

• Do not get caught. You must do this outside, preferably in a forest somewhere. If you attempt this recipe in your backyard, prepare to be on dish duty for the foreseeable future.

• Do not actually eat this… bad stuff might happen. This soup is for fun, not for food. Feed it to the worms if you want to share.

1. Find a bowl or cup or a mug– anything the adults won’t mind cleaning

2. Locate an area with the necessary ingredients.

3. Scoop about 2 cups of mud out of the ground. Use a spoon or an actual cup if you’re too chicken to use your hands.

4. Break up a handful of sticks into smaller pieces and add them to the bowl.

5. Add half a cup of rocks.

6. Add a spoonful of sand if you want.

7. Add fallen leaves from a nearby tree if they’re available.

8. Add dead flowers to the mix for decoration.

9. Douse the whole thing in water and stir till it looks yummy.

10. Enjoy! Metaphorically.

Instanteously Ordinary

By Sydney Maud

I used to love strolling down the streets during the holidays

The fashion of holding my mothers hand as we paraded the streets

I love wandering the streets of New York during the holidays

Capering beneath the snow, my petit figure descending onto the white frost

I take my finger spelling out my six letter name

The excitement of the crisp air piercing my chapped lips

Especially the warmth of the shower water caressing my pasty skin

After the long day strolling the wintery holiday streets

My crimson colored rain boots have inconveniently failed my frigid toes

As the rip that was once so meager has only grown larger

I love wandering the streets of New York during the holidays

The blissful thoughts of chopped firewood being cast into the fire pit

To the impulse of smelling every pine tree I pass,

I try not to compel myself into purchasing the tree

Especially its greenery that draws me into the winter time

I love strolling down the street during the holidays

When New Yorker’s walk down the everlasting avenues ponderously

Whistling for a taxi to take them to their next destination

I remember this instantaneously ordinary day

As I turn my head, curiously looking for my name that was once engraved in the white frost

Energy Tax Prevention Act of 2011

By Birdi Diehl

Climate Crisis Policy Solutions

By Olivia DeCesare

The climate crisis is daunting. Sometimes, it feels as though there is no hope. However, calling your representatives works, as they document and review every opinion stated by their constituents in order to gauge how to respond to future policies. Here are some policy suggestions that you can make to your representatives, and look out for in candidates’ campaigns. All suggestions are from the International Panel on Climate Change, the leading global source of climate studies.

Provide subsidies for green energy to developing countries

Developing countries, many of which are located in the Global South, are the least capable of investing in climate solutions, yet are the most affected by climate change. This creates a feedback loop, as natural disasters worsen their economic ability to invest in solutions. Subsidies in green energy and other forms of financial aid to these countries allow them to grow industry and improve quality of life without the use of fossil fuels.

Follow and stay in the Kyoto Protocol and Paris Climate Agreement

The Kyoto Protocol is a commitment by members of the UN to decrease greenhouse gas emissions, with individualized goals for each country. The Paris Climate Agreement is an international treaty among multiple nations pledging to reduce emissions, financially support the Global South, publish emissions reports, and become carbon neutral by 2050. Countries within the Kyoto Protocol and Paris Climate Agreement have been creating legislation to reduce energy consumption, which has reduced the projected growth of greenhouse gas emissions. If membership to either of these agreements is threatened, call your representatives and vote for them to stay committed to these goals.

also beneficial.

Promote the electrification of urban systems

If you live in the same district as a city, promote the electrification of urban systems. Public transportation, charging stations, and more can significantly reduce the carbon footprint of an area.

Improve forest and crop/grassland management

In more rural areas, the management of forests, croplands, and grasslands can reduce deforestation and soil erosion. This protects natural carbon sinks and avoids national heating events like the Dust Bowl. On top of these benefits, proper land management also reduces deforestation. Deforestation reduces the earth’s albedo, or its reflectivity, thereby increasing the overall heat absorbed by the planet.

Subsidize low-emission fuels and electric vehicles for transportation companies.

The use of synthetic fuels can dramatically reduce the carbon footprint of transportation businesses. However, the cost of both electric vehicles and synthetic fuels is still causing businesses to be apprehensive.

Fund climate research

Invest in solar and wind energy

Solar and wind energy has become more reliable, and can power areas efficiently. Breakthroughs have made these options cheaper than ever before, but they require side-management, or the ability to store energy, which is also now available. If you live near bodies of water, some hydropower systems are

Many of the critical solutions to climate change are still under-developed. Battery technology, carbon capture technology, and different renewable energy sources need further research that the private sector is not funding nearly enough.

There are two things you can do right now. If it’s between 9am and 5pm, call your representatives. Seriously, sometimes phone calls are nerve-racking, but the climate crisis is more nerve-racking. Second, share solutions and knowledge. The IPCC reports that one of the major factors prohibiting countries from taking the urgent actions necessary is the lack of knowledge surrounding solutions. We cannot solve the problem without the solution.

AThank you & Letters from the Editors

Green Magazine is honored and thankful for the opportunity to share our talented staff’s work with our community and beyond. Green Magazine’s staff has worked tirelessly this semester, creating and producing a work we are all so proud to call ours. This edition calls on our audience to reflect on their childhood and the interactions with nature at an early age. We also hope this issue can help our audience remember we are given just one world, and to care for and be curious of it, like the childhood version of ourselves did. We hope ‘Down in the Valley’ inspires and educates our readers on our world and the dire protection it calls for. We thank the Emerson Green Collective for sponsoring this platform to showcase our work. And we especially thank you, our audience; without you, we would not be here. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts; we hope you enjoyed it.

To say I am so proud of this edition and this staff is the understatement of the year. After three semesters of running Green Magazine, I have been so honored with the opportunity to see this publication grow. We started with staff in the single digits, and now we have almost forty incredible, talented, and passionate creators, writers, photographers, and artists. “Down in the Valley” was perfectly curated by this bright staff. We urge you to reflect on your childhood and it’s innocent relationship with nature–and just maybe ignite that relationship once more. I am so, so, so happy to present Green Magazine’s Spring 2024 Edition: “Down in the Valley” to our readers.

All my Love, Victoria Hoffmann

This has been my first semester working for Green Magazine as an Editor-in-Chief, and it’s been the biggest honor. Our staff has grown by over 300%, and I am so grateful for and proud of every single member of our team. To say we kicked ass with a tight schedule is an understatement. Thank you to everyone who trusted in our leadership; I believe that our collective effort has allowed the original vision of “Down in the Valley” to grow into a masterpiece that highlights the importance of experiencing the outdoors as a child and carrying this childlike wonder into adulthood. Every child deserves to explore and play in nature, in peace.

Ameilia Oei

This is my last semester here at Emerson, and I can’t think of a better way to have spent it than serving as co-EIC for another issue of Green Magazine. No other school project of mine so captures the passions for writing, design, and justice that Emerson has fueled in me. I hope new generations of Emersonians get to have as much fun working on this magazine as I have. As I embark on a new chapter of my life, Down In The Valley encouraged me to reflect on and appreciate the time I’ve already had. I am so grateful to have learned and grown alongside this talented staff, Gabel Strickland

A statement from the Environmental Justice Committee

This issue of Green Magazine highlights the importance of childrens’ interactions with nature. Every child should be able to freely explore, create, and just play in the outdoors, without penalty. Whether that be without screens, without war, without consequences. The early joys and awe we experience as children in nature should be able to smoothly transition into appreciation for the outdoors in adulthood. It is vital to pass on these memories to future generations, so that we continue as a species to do our part in caring for the Earth. Every child has the right to experience nature; it is an injustice to both the environment and people to prohibit this.

The Environmental Justice Committee, as a subgroup of EGC, aspires to use artwork to capture the emotional essence at play within the climate crisis. The emotion captured in this issue’s rendition of seeing nature through the curious eyes of a child feels precious amidst the loss experienced today. Green Mag coexists within Emerson Green Collective as a great way to visualize how the student body interprets experiences with the environment. We encourage the visual and textual components of the magazine in correlation to the climate crisis because the effects of pain and suffering can’t be properly captured in words alone. Magazine work is in highest praise, an art form.

Artwork that pops into mind combining the themes of childhood experiences in nature and injustice took place on the Bournemoth beach a couple months before publication. In early February 2024, 11,500 items of children’s clothing were spread on the sand, representing the countless lives of children lost in the conflict between Israel-Gaza at that point. A helicopter panned over the scene at the beach and transformed it into advocacy, reaching global audiences. After the demonstration the clothes were donated to children and homeless charities. “Led by Donkeys” are the political campaigners who set up the movement and whose goals, according to creator James Sandri, were to visualize the extent of “killing.” Simultaneously, Sandri wanted to focus on the individual lives lost within the tragedy. Just as “Down in the Valley” calls us to reflect on our earliest memories with the environment, the display at Bournemouth haunts audiences with the realization that these children will never have access to that.