Green energy, digital power add to local nuns’ quiet life
"Creation sustains us and the respect we owe to our Earth," says Sister Maria Ahearn.
BY G EO RG I A F I S H E R • PHOTOS BY ALLISON YOUNG
R
eno’s Carmelite nuns don’t wear habits anymore. Seeing as they support themselves with printmaking—and old-school presses are famous for snagging clothes and maiming people—the sisters retired their woolen robes a long time ago. Shedding the traditional garb was a gutsy move for their community, explains Sister Maria Ahearn, “but after awhile, [our attitude] was, ‘No, this is who we are. This is how we live. Get used to it.’” A native New Yorker who came to Reno in the ’70s, Ahearn is apt to wear cargo pants, sneakers and a tank top. She often rides her bike up nearby Driscoll Drive’s long,
This solar panel helps power Carmel of Reno.
16 | RN&R |
MAY 29, 2014
daunting hill. She skis, too, and snowboards. An appreciation for the outdoors comes easily at the nuns’ 19-acre home in Southwest Reno, where the city and mountain views are jaw-dropping, and the sky seems big enough to sweep you away on a gust of wind. Then there’s the modern chapel designed by architect Brad Van Woert, with sunlit, floorto-ceiling slices of glass that feel like they’re suspended right over the valley. The sisters weren’t always this comfortable, mind you. The first few were broke, really, when they moved to Reno from Indiana in 1954. But their founder, the late Sister Anne of the Trinity (born
Anne Elisabeth Clem) taught them to be progressive and limber—ready to shed old habits, so to speak, and embrace new technology. Two years ago, that meant the addition of a massive network of solar panels tucked into a wooded part of the grounds. It’s well concealed and highly effective, generating far more power than the facility even needs. “Everybody was so on board,” says Ahearn, adding that wind power was part of the discussion, too. “We had wanted to do this for a very long time, and then we got it from a grant [from NV Energy]. Once you do the math of this, who wouldn’t like it?”
The Carmelites are still on the grid. Their system generates energy, obviously, but actually sends it to the power company. NV Energy effectively stores it for the nuns and credits their account with a surplus, which they can then tap into during leaner months. Our Lady of the Snows and the Reno Christian Fellowship also use solar energy, and the approach is gathering a strong enough following in Nevada that a popular rebate program will one day taper off altogether. Truckee Meadows Community College is home to one of the latest rebate installations, which now number around 1,800 statewide. Tapering off is actually the whole point, says NV Energy program manager John Hargrove. “The program was designed to create an industry that can sustain itself once the rebates are [gone],” he explains. The 14 local Carmelites, for their part, are certainly self-sustaining. Their solar setup “powers just about everything,” says Sister Clorinda von
Stockalper—or just Cloe, as she’d rather be called—a pro musician who hails from Switzerland, Scotland and England, for the record. “We thought it would be a good idea, because there’s so much sun,” she says, in an accent that’s entrancing and velvety enough to bear mention here. “And it’s definitely made a difference in our lives, financially and otherwise.” A recent flight over Phoenix gave Ahearn yet another eyeful of solar grids. Plus, she’ll never forget the wind farms she saw en route to a pilgrimage in Spain. “People are taking it seriously,” she says, and she sees Reno’s new single-stream recycling program as yet another sign of progress. Green living certainly makes sense in a spiritual context—especially a quiet, contemplative one like the Carmelites’. “We are part of creation,” Ahearn will tell you, “and creation sustains us and the respect we owe to our Earth.” For some Native Americans, she says, “the Great Spirit lives in the
