Grass Ain't Good

       Every year, the grass would die. My dad would rip out the old sod, replace it with new sod, and hope like hell it'd actually grow this year. He'd sprinkle the lawn with every tincture and mix and serum known to man, and at the end of the year, it'd still die. Finally fed up with this cycle, we ripped out our lawn. We replaced it with beds of snap peas, green beans, crookneck squash, zucchini, tomatoes, chives, oregano, and the list goes on... The beds are connected with spiraling rock paths, and backed with a hillside of ivy-- perhaps a plant more resilient than any other.

      Our removal of grass stemmed mostly from the fact that our yard was too shady to grow it successfully. But there are other rewards for replacing grass lawns too. According to the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), "every year across the country, lawns consume nearly 3 trillion gallons of water, 200 million gallons of gas (for all that mowing), and 70 million pounds of pesticides. Also explained by the NRDC, grass fails to provide any viable habitat for pollinators and other creatures which generate a healthy ecosystem. They state, "Birds, for instance, may ingest berries and seeds that have absorbed pesticides from the ground. Likewise, rainwater runoff from lawns can carry pesticides and fertilizers into rivers, lakes, streams, and oceans via the sewer system. This can poison fish and other aquatic animals and harm humans who swim, surf, and eat seafood that may be contaminated. And then, of course, lawn mowers can pollute the air." So yeah, lawns aren't great. 

     Lawns especially aren't great in a state with little water and high water use, like Utah. According to the United States Geological Survey, "Utahns use more water per person than anyone else in the country [at] 248 gallons of water a day." Compounding on the seriousness of this statement is the fact that Utah is virtually always in water shortage. In fact, this year marks the first time since 2011 that Utah hasn't been saddled with a drought. Unfortunately, lawns are the norm. As Harvard magazine explains, " Of the 116 million American households, only about 25 percent do not have yards or grass to take care of."

      But think how powerful it would be if the other 75% of those 116 million American households DID replace their lawns with more ecologically friendly flora? Or even if just the state of Utah replaced their lawns? Or even if a single neighborhood did? In order to see this type of widespread change, however, I believe a shift in policy will need to occur. Some policies which encourage lawn alternatives do already exist. For example, California offers a rebate of up to $500/yard for citizens who replace turf with native, water-wise xeriscaping. However, other policies do just the opposite. Multiple homeowners who have converted their yards say that their governments have penalized them for doing so. Sarah baker, a St. Albans, Ohio resident, reports that she was "forced to mow" after authorities deemed her water-wise landscape a "nuisance." Along the same line, Sandra Christos from Stone Harbor, New Jersey, explains that her new native plant landscape attracted a myriad of delightful creatures such as herons, kingfishers, and "every kind of butterfly you can imagine." Nonetheless, she was sent a letter from her town clerk that demanded she tame her landscape or else pay a fine.

      Not only are there few policies like California's that incentive no-mow lawns, there are many that actually penalize for them. I propose a shift in this precedent. I propose that my local Holladay government begin by incentivizing no-mow lawns with a rebate of $550/yard, free classes on how to implement and maintain this style of yard, and an initial fleet of horticulturists to troubleshoot citizens' questions. Then I propose that this transition strategy is intensified through a policy that mandates the no-mow landscaping. Those who fail to convert their yards will be faced with a steep monetary penalty. 

    Even on a small scale of a single city, this shift in policy could make a massive difference in reducing the amount of water used. (As well as gas and pesticides!) It would also create such a dynamic, unique, and place-based environment, as the yards would consist of engaging, regional plants. Additionally, this would likely help to support local nurseries that specialize in endemic and regional species. I do see one complaint following this shift being "without a lawn there's no room for my 18 kids to play!" I simply don't agree. I think if anything, this style of landscaping encourages more play and interaction from children than a boring, flat lawn. Additionally, if the children really did need a place to practice sports and what not on a lawn, the money saved in water costs could be put toward the maintenance of local parks which have lawns.

     To finish up, I've included a handful of photos featuring beautiful, ELEGANT, happy no-mow yards! Also, if anyone's interested, I've found these two books to be excellent resources: "Beautiful No-Mow Lawns" by Evelyn J. Hadden, and "Lawn Gone! Low-Maintenance, Sustainable, Attractive Alternatives for Your Yard" by Pam Penick.

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Sources for this blog post:

https://www.nrdc.org/stories/more-sustainable-and-beautiful-alternatives-grass-lawn

http://fox13now.com/2014/11/07/survey-says-utahns-average-water-use-is-highest-in-united-states/

http://fox13now.com/2017/03/19/no-drought-conditions-in-utah-for-the-first-time-since-2011/

http://harvardmagazine.com/2011/03/when-grass-isnt-greener

Yes Mom, I Know the Reputation Lawyers Have

"Environmental attorneys also grapple with serious ethical questions. They must manage the tension between environmental protection and economic development. They protect not only the environment but also human interests by distributing environmental risks fairly, preventing job loss, and ensuring access to natural resources. Since the scientific understanding of environmental issues evolves rapidly, attorneys must make sure that the law keeps up – and must build legal regimes from scratch to handle new environmental problems." 

This passage describing environmental law comes Harvard Law School's "A Trail Guide to Careers in Environmental Law." (Sidenote: is the "Trail Guide" a nod toward the fact that anyone pursuing environmental law is obviously a trail-dwelling tree-hugger? Not mad about that assumption, since it describes me pretty well. Just curious.) I've been interested in environmental law since the beginning of my undergraduate experience. I was initially daunted with a misconception that "green careers" were limited to "math and science" people, and as a "history and writing" person, I felt out of luck. But then I stumbled across environmental law. It felt, and feels, like an excellent way for me to dedicate a career toward advocating for the environment, while also utilizing a skill set in communication, history, memorization, and let's face it, arguing. 

My commitment to this path has been strengthened through my participation in the Urban Ecology minor program. I find myself now also wanting to engage in the field of building green communities, with a conviction that practicing environmental law can help me do so. Environmental lawyers assist with creating legal policies that encourage and demand more biocentric living. Environmental lawyers champion the causes of citizens and developers who are experiencing roadblocks on their routes to sustainable, and equitable development. Environmental lawyers hold other citizens and developers, who aren't so eco-minded, accountable for their impacts. Environmental lawyers are a thread within the tapestry of cooperative change. 

On a slightly different note, I've practiced finding a voice in my own community this week. I live in Holladay, the site of recent demolition projects to prepare for an oversized, industrial-scale shopping center. Coinciding with this demolition, is a personal project to construct bee dwellings in my yard. I've reached out to Holladay City to request acquiring some of their salvage materials to use for my bee house project. It's such a small thing, but being able to simultaneously keep that material out of a landfill, and create a piece of my own, would be a huge success. Then perhaps, I could look at the new, mammoth-sized shopping center without dry heaving. Perhaps. 

Affordable Doesn't Have to be Abysmal

I was so in awe of the affordable housing we looked at in class, as well as what is featured on Design Advisor. What an incredible improvement upon the run-down, forgettable, hostile, failed examples that typically come to mind when the phrase "affordable housing" is used. The examples we looked at were instead, dignified, beautiful, thoughtful, and comforting resources for those who are so often denied membership in these categories. As far as the three examples I'll discuss for this post, I decided to choose a West Coast design, East Coast design, and landlocked design.

1. Murphy Ranch: Morgan Hill, California

I was impressed with the community building offered in this housing development-- I like the idea of a place set-aside for gathering, working, learning, and socializing. I also liked the inclusion of a wide variety of floorplans, ranging from few bedrooms to many. Many different breeds of people need affordable housing, so I appreciated their accommodations for this in their floorplans. I loved the idea of a solar-heated swimming pool! I always wanted a swimming pool (to be honest, I still do), and what better way to heat it than by using the sun. Additionally, I was impressed with the use of photovoltaic electricity, water-wise landscaping, and most of all, the Eco Pass that gives residents free access to public transit (which is also close in proximity!)

2. Cobb Hill: Hannover, Vermont

I was initially very impressed with this housing for the fact that it preserved agricultural lands. Rather than using the abandoned farmland for further building, Cobb Hill revived the land for community farming. Not only does this reduce urban heat island, it also provides habitat for organisms and reduces greenhouse gas emissions associated with importing food. This development provided community space not only via the farms, but by renovating the old barns to be gathering spaces as well. In way of eco-features, Cobb Hill had many. It featured separated parking, composting toilets, and harvesting the sun via intentional windows. Perhaps though, what I was most impressed with, was the inclusivity in design. In planning Cobb Hill, a variety of experts were consulted, but most importantly, citizens were consulted.

3. East Kelly Avenue: Jackson Hole, Wyoming

This development provides much needed affordability in an otherwise outrageously expensive resort town. I appreciated the inclusion of front porches for all of its units, as front porches act as powerful spaces for socializing and safety. This development also featured mid-block walkways that connected units and encouraged pedestrian/cyclist use between neighbors. Additionally, it was planned near businesses, bike routes, and public transportation hubs, which offers an excellent accessibility for its tenants. Finally, I appreciate their consciousness of landscaping in their installation of minimal evaporation sprinklers.

Overall, I was most impressed with Cobb Hill, and least impressed with East Kelly Avenue. Cobb Hill offered such a complete housing development-- expanding beyond the predictable amenities for residential use and adding in the benefits of ample community space, local food production, and extremely eco-friendly features. I also felt like the homes in this development were the most elegant of the three examples, and seemed to be built on a much more appropriate scale than the others. As for East Kelly Avenue, I felt like it made some good nods toward conscious planning, but still lacked pedestrian-centric design, missed opportunities for eco-friendly installations, and could've had even more water-wise landscaping via the removal of lawns.

No More Dumb Design!

I opened my refrigerator and was struck by a few things: 1. I need to go grocery shopping, 2. tomato paste doesn't keep as long as you think it might, 3. there were some definite parallels to planning. For the sake of this assignment, I'll stick with the third point. I saw so many out of season, non-local foods, all packaged so excessively. How much better it would be if I had seasonal, locally-grown, and minimally packaged foods instead. With this style of consumption, I would be reducing chemical use from out of season growing, fossil fuel emissions from transportation, and landfill waste from over-packaging. All three of these are substantial effects. So how does this relate to design? Well, what if we were to use my same improved model of consumption, and apply it do planning? What if we were to design structures that were relevant to their location, effective in all four seasons, and eco-friendly in design? I believe we would experience substantial effects, just as I would by buying different food, but at a much larger scale.

As for the photograph included in this week's prompt, it's hard to tell exactly what's occurring. Perhaps it can be interpreted in multiple ways, as most things can. Personally, I saw trees that weren't apt to grow where they were planted, and rather than being replaced with indigenous species, they were being forced upright via constructed braces. But perhaps the photograph could be viewed a different way. Perhaps these trees were local and successful to the area in which they're planted, but were damaged by a storm. Perhaps rather than letting the trees die, locals pooled their knowledge together and used a common regional solution-- the bracing of trees.

 I guess lately I've been really struck with the fact that things don't have to be the way they are. Perpetuation of poor design is not inevitable-- it can change. Future planners can decide to base their designs on the strengths and weaknesses of the place at hand, rather than simply applying a cookie-cutter stencil from developments of the past that have no relevance or power in the present. Future designers could realize that a lot of students would take public transit to campus, if there were better provisions for the climate extremes we deal with in Utah, like shelters and shade. Future designers could realize that a lot of Utahans live in the state because of its abundance of natural beauty, and could incorporate nods toward our dynamic landscapes throughout the city via murals, sculptures, plant displays, the direction our windows face, and even the colors used in buildings. Future designers could realize that Utah's history is full of atrocities toward indigenous peoples, and give voice and recognition to Native Americans by incorporating traditional building and artistry techniques. (As long as the techniques used were used with permission and consultation from the tribes and nations, as many cultural elements are sacred and not to be appropriated.)

It's an overwhelming notion-- that things don't have to stay the same, that there's so much that can and should be changed. But it's also a hopeful one. Design doesn't have to be dumb, and I'm here to make that known.