(from older PlaceWorks blog)
I have just finished reading (April, 2010) Stewardship Begins with People: An Atlas of Places, People, and Handmade Products published by the National Park Service Conservation Study Institute. It is a slim volume, but a platform for some big ideas. The Atlas considers conserved landscapes and the cultural and production traditions that are associated with them, profiling a number of great “place-based development” projects (to use the parlance of this website), and by extension encouraging all of us to think more expansively about relationships between people and land.
As a point of departure, it may be useful to understand the various approaches the National Park Service takes to landscape conservation. The Atlas mentions, in addition to National Parks as we would expect, National Monuments, National Historical Parks and Reserves, National Historic Sites and Landmarks, and National Heritage and Recreation Areas – each with its own set of rules and regs, governing structures and processes, even goals and objectives. Those projects considered in the Atlas have in common a focus on “working” landscapes and the complex weave of natural, cultural and economic systems that define them. A tip-o-the-hat to NPS for trying multiple approaches to managing these landscapes (and to Atlas authors for explaining them), offering those of us who are attempting to figure out how place-based development might work a great learning opportunity.
All these projects face a central challenge posed by the dynamic, evolving nature of relationships between people and the land – and that is that things change. Again to its credit, the NPS seems to be advocating/trying conservation approaches that, while being respectful of past practice (traditional culture and historical production techniques) are not bound by it. Scott Crawford, executive director of Kipahulu Ohana, a non-profit that works with NPS in Haleakala National Park (Hawaii), notes: “We work with the park to integrate the best of the traditional Hawaiian land management practices, using the knowledge of the people who have grown up on this land and whose ancestors were here long before, with the best of the modern scientific approach to resource management. Both approaches are most effective today when applied in a complementary fashion.” In most of the cases reported here, NPS does appear to honor past practice while being open to innovation and experimentation, an approach that would seem as applicable and appropriate for the rough and tumble world of the “un-conserved” landscapes most of us are working in as they apparently are within the NPS realm.
Beyond an interest in thoughtful approaches to resource management, as I read the Atlas, I was especially keen to discover ways in which the components of place actively contribute to the character or quality of the products made or grown there (see earlier post on the notion of “terroir”), and here I was left with more questions than answers. Some of us take as an article of faith that grass fed beef is better for our health than beef raised on hormone laced grain, but does the beef raised on the conserved grasslands of Grant-Kohrs Ranch National Historic Site (Montana) have a different taste or consistency from that raised on conserved farms along the Blue Ridge Parkway (Virginia, North Carolina – different climate, terrain, grass types)? Or does Shelburne Farms Cheddar (Vermont) have lower cholesterol levels than that produced by the Cowgirl Creamery from Straus farm milk along the Point Reyes National Seashore (California)? (OK. Cowgirl Creamery doesn’t make a cheddar, but you get the idea.) In other words, is there any real material link between the product and the place – a “placeprint,” to use a term I coined in an earlier post – and is there a relationship between that and the characteristics of the landscape which NPS managers are trying to conserve?
In a similar way, I was curious about the Churro sheep that are being reintroduced in at the Hubbell Trading Post National Historic Site (Arizona). The Atlas notes that the Churro is the earliest known domesticated animal in the Southwest and central to Dine (Navajo) traditions and weaving. But what was it about the breed, the Southwestern diet and range, Navajo husbandry, etc. that produced wool that was so highly valued? And what were the characteristics of the wool that made it valuable – length and strength of fiber? color or way it absorbed dyes? And to what extent are the historical conditions that produced these qualities currently available at the Hubbell site or more generally in Arizona, or how hard would it be to reproduce them? To be fair, these questions are probably all well answered at the Hubbell site itself, and asking them here begs a level of detail that the Atlas authors understandably left for another day/publication. Suffice to say that reading the Atlas raised these questions for me, and in that respect alone (for the questions it prompted) was well worth the read.
Side note: I remember having heard about a woolen mill in Skowhegan, Maine, that in the 1890s imported wool from New Zealand (what was wrong with the wool from Somerset County Merinos?), spun it using power from the Kennebec River (by mill workers trained by Syrian spinners!), then sent it to Arizona to be used by Navajo weavers to make rugs! And here we are talking about the “global economy” as though it were something new! Will have to check my facts on this one.
In the view of the authors of the Atlas, it seems that one way (the primary way?) in which any place can contribute value to products made or grown in it is through creating in the mind of a potential customer an association between the product and certain qualities of the place. In some cases, that might mean association with specific cultural traditions (the Navajo rug weaving tradition). In other cases, the association might be with the respectful (sustainable) resource management principles followed by those who manage the natural/cultural resources of the place – in this case, the NPS and its partners. This “association,” per the stories in the Atlas, can be created or strengthened in a variety of ways, most notably through “certification” (as in this product was made in compliance with strict standards supported by NPS or someone else) or through place-based “branding” which uses text and images associated with the place to enhance the identity of the product. In both cases, product makers/growers/marketers add value to their products by adding “meaning” to them.
More on meaning as a dimension of place in a future post on managing values associated with federal lands. But for now, a big thank you to the folks at the Conservation Study Institute for an illuminating and thought provoking piece of work.
By the way. It looks like CSI followed up publication of the Atlas with a conference in 2008. A summary slide show is on their website – where you can also order copies of the Atlas. We hope for more to come!