I recently attended my first ASLE conference, marking a significant moment for me as both a poet and a scholar focusing on Chicanx ecology. The panel I participated in was a reunion of authors from FlowerSong Press, including Edward Vidaurre, Kamala Platt, and Marisol Cortez. We discussed the connection between poetry and resistance in today’s complex world.
One powerful question arose during our discussions. Marisol wondered if small-scale acts like poetry could inspire real change. I’m still grappling with that question.
Writing, to me, feels like a crucial way to engage with the world around us. It allows us to express and connect, much like how Anna Tsing describes the matsutake mushroom as thriving in difficult conditions. Writing acts as a means for us to explore challenges and share narratives, making sense of our messy reality.
At another panel, “Indisciplined Atmospheres of Co-Creation from Latin American Environmental Humanities,” participants advocated for viewing poetry as a sacred act amid capitalist constraints. Some academics resist this idea, but I believe it invites us to reconsider how we generate knowledge, both in schools and communities. To innovate, we need a shift in both thinking and methods.
Practitioners like Valeria Meiller emphasize integrating Indigenous worldviews into conversations about the environment. Meiller, a professor and activist, focuses on the impact of extractivism—the exploitation of Indigenous lands—and how literature can play a role in resistance. Her work aims to amplify voices often sidelined in discussions of environmental justice.
Meiller highlighted the link between language and a culture’s perspective on climate issues. She believes poetry can foster necessary dialogues about our relationship with the environment, breaking down barriers and presenting diverse narratives about resilience and loss.
Her thoughts resonate with Emil’ Keme’s quote: “For Abiayala to live, the Americas must die.” This view challenges Western paradigms and suggests that dismantling destructive systems is essential for Indigenous cultures to thrive.
Sofía Rosa, another presenter at ASLE, introduced the term “anthropoetry,” where rural Chileans weave environmental stories into their poetry. She displayed a digital map that highlighted where her “anthropoetic” samples were collected, blending empirical research with poetic expression.
Do these small poetry-based efforts effectively address the climate crisis? While I still don’t have a clear answer, these discussions underscore that the everyday act of writing can be a form of engagement with our many challenges.
As Meiller suggests, we need to reevaluate old concepts and adapt. Listening and learning from our environment can inspire new realities.
In Rosa’s words, asking for water can itself be a form of poetry—emphasizing how intertwined our language is with our lives and lands.
For more insight into these concepts, explore Tsing’s work on the matsutake mushroom here.
Source link
Abiayala,anna lowenhaupt tsing,arts,ASLE,ecology,latin america,literature,poetry,sofia rosa,valeria meiller