Ruston Way Tacoma, WA: Railway, Road, Pathway, and Waterway
Mapping the Environment and Resources
In an effort to focus my attention on the features of the 2-mile Ruston Way (Tacoma, Washington) waterfront, I began the week by walking the length of this segment with a map in hand. First I walked to the end of the site and then on my return walk I made notations on the map—marking sections and recording the features of each region (e.g., sculptures, monuments, beach access, buildings, landforms, interpretative signage, restrooms, picnic tables, benches, trash cans, vistas). By considering the features and purpose of each region, I identified twelve distinct sub-regions. I created a table to compare and contrast the features and to identify larger bands of continuous space. For example, three adjacent parks can be conceptualized as a continuous zone of park space, rather than as three separate parks.
One day I spent time mapping the features of the sub-region from the Old Town Dock to the Silver Cloud Hotel, which has three different docks within a ¼ of a mile. Drawing made me much more aware of bench placement, plantings, pier pylons in the water, the difference between walking on a cement pathway versus a wooden dock, and how the dock railings are designed to maximize water views. Trails are not only routes; they can provide opportunities for deeper observation or exploration. I’m considering why the trails were designed this way and the potential and varied learning implications of the design choices.
Layered Transport Arteries
Cargo Ship on Commencement Bay, Tacoma, WA
Mapping the site helped me to conceptualize the entire 2-mile segment as a series of closely layered transport arteries: water way, cement pathway, road, and railway. The main cement pathway is nestled between a major shipping lane (where ships with cargo containers are regularly visible as they move to and from the Port of Tacoma), and a two-lane road and a railroad line (with regularly scheduled cargo and passenger trains). In addition, the waterway and related estuaries and rivers are migration routes for a wide variety of birds and fish.
A local business woman told me she drives home along the waterfront two to three days a week to take in the views, even though the waterfront road is not the most direct route to her home. This conversation made me think about the different motivations of passengers in passing cars from delivering goods, to maneuvering across the city, to enjoying the water views. One morning I counted 134 passing cars during three 5-minute intervals spaced within one hour.
Everyday Nature
Sites like the Ruston Way waterfront can be described as everyday or nearby nature (Kaplan, Kaplan, & Ryan, 1998), a place where residents and visitors can experience nature as a part of daily living, rather than as something far away and distant. Everyday nature can foster “. . . reflections about the many meanings of nature in our ordinary lives” (Cronon, 1995, p. 28). Focusing on everyday nature can disrupt shared Western cultural assumptions that idealize pristine wilderness (spaces deemed absent of humans and human activity that “contaminates” nature) and devalue nearby nature in urban settings (which are crowded hubs of human activity). Everyday nature supports us to consider, “How can we take the positive values we associate with wilderness and bring them closer to home?” (p. 87).
The Paradox of Nature
The Ruston Way waterfront segment also has the potential to make visible the paradox of nature—nature can be conceptualized as a commodity (the lumber, logs, and coal that are transported on the rail line and as cargo on passing ships), as Eden or an idealized landscape (the sweeping panoramic views of Commencement Bay and the flora and fauna that live in and traverse through the space), and as an artificial human-made construction (the designed parks, marshes and aquatic habitat basins). From an individual learning perspective, “What each of us finds here, in other words, is not One Universal Nature but the many different natures that our cultures and histories have taught us to look for and find” (Cronon, 1995, p. 55).
This site is ideal for considering important interactions between nature and culture and for reflecting on questions like, “What would a more historically and culturally minded way of understanding nature look like, which would take seriously not just the natural world but the human cultures that lend meaning and moral imperatives to that world?” (Cronon, 1995, p. 26)
One realization I have had this week is the importance of critically questioning how I define terms like nature and wilderness. As the week progressed I thought about the pros and cons of engaging park visitors with a question like, “Is this wilderness?” as a way to open up conversations about the varied meanings of nature.
Resources
Cronon, W. (Ed). (1995). Uncommon ground: Toward reinventing nature. New York: W. W. Norton & Company.
Kaplan, R., Kaplan, S., & Ryan, R. L. (1998). With people in mind: Design and management of everyday nature. Washington, D. C.: Island Press.
- Navigating Nature, Culture and Education in Contemporary Botanic Gardens - June 9, 2018
- Vashon Island Perspective - March 18, 2018
- Teaching and Learning in Nearby Nature - March 12, 2017
Yes
Cronin has encapsulated this for us in the quote you have in ‘Paradox of Nature’.
and
Yes
Capturing depth and meaning of personal and cultural relationships with landscapes may take research beyond the spoken word. My PhD student is using photographs taken by children to help them capture what their garden means to them -photovoice.