Avatar and Copenhagen

Our Great Mother does not take sides, Jake. She protects only the balance of life.

-Neytiri, Avatar, December 2009.

I call upon our neighbors, even those with whom we have not yet reached diplomatic relations, to join hands in an effort to save our region. Political disagreements should not hinder environmental co-operation. Carbon molecules carry no passport. Rivers require no visa. Pollution travels with them. All of us - Jews, Muslims and Christians - pray that the Jordan River will flow, fresh and holy.

- Shimon Peres, Israeli President, Copenhagen Climate Talks, December 2009.

If our planet had an Academy Award ceremony, I think it would be inviting fewer politicians and scientists this year and more CGI-enhanced, leggy, pony-tailed, 12-ft smurfs carrying bows and wearing DayGLO paint.

This month, scientists and politicians alike were watching the Copenhagen Climate talks like it was the Giants vs. Patriots Super Bowl. Obama was suppose to be our young Eli Manning, the upstart Giants QB, bravely facing the undefeated (and viciously scheming) Patriots-like behemoth--China. Right up to the last day (long before our young Eli took the field to play one last quarter of hardball with one stubborn geologist), the "white coats" were deep into their doomsday prophesying. Thomas Stoker from the IPCC, repeated and repeated "warming in the climate system is unequivocal" (a direct quote from 2007 IPCC's 4th Assessment Report). Robert Dunbar, of the Center for Ocean Solutions, reminded us that the ocean levels weren't just rising but--for extra fun--they were also lapping carbonic acid onto our shores and marine life (how are you going to like sticking your toesies in that?).

The real "fourth-quarter" at this event began with the struggle to set a legitimate, legally-binding, point-of-no-return, internationally approved, scientifically justified, CO2 target for our planet. Basically, the question at hand was as follows:

Were we, as the foremost governing species on this planet, going to:

Option A) Arrest our descent into planetary madness and destruction by capping our CO2 emissions below their current levels (387 ppm and increasing 2-9 ppm annually) by setting the benchmark at 300-350 ppm (parts per million). True, the 350 ppm max number is a much trumpeted figure by the (so-called) treehugging community, but it is definitely not without it's scientific proof and consensus. 350 ppm takes into account the numerous scientific factoids that show that our planet will be absent one Arctic tophat in 30 years should our emissions continue to push towards and beyond 390 ppm. This number corresponds to maintaining almost all existing modern marine life which evolved and adapted in CO2 levels which ranged from 180 ppm to 280 ppm. 350 ppm also refers to terrestrial life, as one (of many) studies have shown that the biodiversity balance in eco-hotspots, like the Amazon, are shifting as inflated CO2 levels drive particular plant species to drastically out-compete other plant species.

350 ppm also corresponds to keeping landmasses that are a mere 1-meter above sea level (including not only small island states, but most of the Netherlands, extensive tracts of land in Bangladesh, and the eastern United States) from becoming underwater cities.

Or...

Option B) Sign up for inevitable, irreversible, planetary feedback-cycle of disaster by capping CO2 emissions at the politically popular 450 ppm. And when I say "popular", I mean popular in the sense that it has it's own US Bill (see: Waxman-Markey climate and energy bill—aka the American Clean Energy and Security Act, ACES, H.R. 2454) and the political backing of three recession crippled nations- the U.S., Britain, and Australia (who, incidentally, would all have to slash carbon dioxide emissions by 5% each year over the next decade to hit the 450ppm target).


And that's basically what it boils down to.

Scientific evidence shows that our planet and population levels cannot be sustained at 450 ppm. Political leaders show that our economy cannot function or meet the 350 ppm cap. Ultimately, it's a scientific-economic conundrum. Even though an emissions cap of 450 ppm would mean nothing less then water touching the torch of the Statue of Liberty, California becoming an island, and coral reefs only existing in history books...at our current economic state, 450 ppm is the best we can do and hope for. It's unfortunate that science doesn't support that message, but we must accept.

Which, incidentally, is the background story of Avatar.

The latest in James Cameron-movie wizardry brings us the tale of a gone-broke, gone-legless, gone-native ex-marine who lands on planet Pandora: mankind's last hope for economic and environmental salvation (...and if Obama and his politcal friends are damn lucky, this place actually might exist). I won't spoil specific plot details for the few of you who haven't seen it, but suffice to say the movie takes place in 2154, when Earth is a "dying planet". The hero, who is white (notably following the tradition of all gone-native Hollywood storyline's, i.e. Dances with Wolves, Ferngullyy, Pocahontas, and Last of the Mohicans), turns himself into a giant blue 'avatar' and mingles with Pandora's indigenous population, the Na'vi. An identity struggle ensues (...oh dear, am I white or am I blue?...) while the marine finds himself a pawn caught between the differing priorities and objectives of science and economy.

The problem really seems to begin with who built the blue suit. Avatar's were originally designed for the relatively benign purpose of researching and studying the Na'vi and Pandora. However, this scientific cocktail was bought and paid for by a mining operation, for the chief purpose of identifying materials and producing 'diplomatic' indigenous relations (i.e. indigenous relocation from prime mining sites). En-route to producing 'diplomatic' relations, the science team makes several important discoveries regarding Pandora's unique environment, discoveries that could essentially create the roadmap for successful cohabitation between the two species. Discoveries that could--possibly--improve human health and existence.

However, the interests of economy and the robber barons funding the Avatar program were not swayed by these discoveries. Fear of financial loss, and of having a "bad fiscal quarter", drives the mining CEO to dismiss the pleading scientists and push ahead with the usual raping and pillaging of planetary resources. Barking that "it's a forest, they can find another tree!" the CEO kicks the Na'vi out of their native home, and embarks on a quest for planetary ruin.

Financial investors do need their payday, after all.

The story of Avatar is much more black-and-white then the story of Copenhagen, but the primary character's are all there (...just in different colors, albeit). It's a playoff between the politicians who are worried about the economy and the scientists that are worried about the environment. The politicians are functioning on this belief that there can be a compromise (i.e. 450 ppm instead of 350 ppm) between the interests of environment and economy. They believe in this compromise even though much of the science shows that such a compromise is not sustainable or even environmentally beneficial. They believe in this compromise to the point that they are ready to dismiss science.

Unlike the character's in Avatar, climate scientists do not have the speaking finesse of Sigourney Weaver to argue their position against the glib likes of Obama. Trained to be objective rather then emotional, they do not have the impassioned speeches needed to convince a depressed public floundering in debt and unemployment that 450 ppm is simply NOT an option. Real-life scientists are not movie stars or even actors. They are merely people who were hired to tell us what is the best environmental solution to an environmental problem.

They have told us. Now it is our turn, as citizens, to NOT accept the argument that "it's a forest, they can find another tree!"....because, truth is, this isn't Pandora, and there is no other tree..

Senator Al Franken draws map of USA

I've been making maps for years...and there isn't half a hope I could pull this off. Hats off to Franken!

Blog Action Day: Climate Change and Sea Level Rise

This post is one of the 9,721 blogs that have been written in celebration of Blog Action Day.

(North Carolina's Outer Banks, with a marker identifying Manteo, NC. Image taken from Google Earth. )

Welcome to Manteo.

I've never been here, but during my second year as a student in UC Berkeley's Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning I became intimately familiar with with this small 1,000+ person town. You see, Manteo is at a very low elevation. Located on the 8-mile long Roanoke Island, Manteo's elevation ranges from sea level to 20ft. It's mild topography is punctuated with marshy outcrops, soft beach slopes, and sun-warmed humic soil. Developed as a touristy 'second-home' town, Manteo is a beloved summer resort for many North Carolina residents. Full of Native American and English colonial history (i.e. Roanoke Island was home of the first English settlement, the famed 'Lost Colony'), bird nesting grounds, and ample beach access, Manteo is the spot to be in the warm pre-hurricane months.

Or at least, for a few more years it will be...

Manteo's low elevation (and that of it's protecting eastern islands) makes it particularly vunerable for climate-induced sea level rise. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) estimates that changes in the earth’s climate could raise global sea levels by one to more than two feet over the next 25 to 75 years. On the North Carolina coastline, that could mean complete inundation of all North Carolina barrier islands within the next 100 years... Manteo included.

Recent research conducted at the The University of North Carolina Wilmington shows that the impacts of sea level rise on North Carolina's coastline could be disastorous on North Carolina's "property values, recreation, and quality of life". To summarize the findings, the study found:

• North Carolina’s coastal topography makes it especially vulnerable to sea level rise and hurricanes—both economically and ecologically.
• A one- to three-foot rise in sea level along four North Carolina coastal counties could mean billions of dollars in private property losses.
• Recreational fishing and beach trips also are vulnerable to increased erosion from sea level rise and increased hurricane severity/frequency.
• Business interruption losses from hurricanes could increase by as much as $157 million per storm event by 2080.

(Cited from Science News:North Carolina Coastal Economy Vulnerable to Sea Level Rise.)

The economic and ecological findings of this study struck a chord with one of my professors at Berkeley. As a North Carolinian native, my professor dispatched his entire graduate class of planning students on a 5-week assignment to do what could be "done" to save his beloved Manteo and it's neighboring beach islands. It was a difficult assignment to say the least. What does somebody do for a town that is going to be 3 ft under water by 2100? There were many caffine-induced talks of floating cities, stilted buildings, sea walls, relocation of bird sanctuaries, and then...

I made things a little worse.

On a whim, while running the GIS figures for coastal erosion, I took a look at what was happening west of Manteo. While my class was focused on the islands (and Manteo, specifically) I GIS-ed my way towards the Albemarle Sound and the inland land masses. Caculating just for sea level rise (and not adding in the average 50 to 100 feet of land lost for every foot of sea-level rise), I produced these maps:

(50-yr Sea Level Rise)
(100-yr Sea Level Rise)

My professor's were stunned. The increase in the Sound size was highly unexpected, and not mention, none of our previous research and literature suggested that this was going to happen (indeed, all of our maps regarding Dare County coastal flooding/land loss were focused on the coast not the inland). Suddenly, we were not just dealing with your typical million dollar vacation-home, beach-property, bird-sanctuary, tourism-industry 'global warming' problem. We were dealing with the potential loss of valuable farmland, nonriverine peatland, permanent residences, highway/bridge developments, and the relocation of 100,000+ residents 60 miles inland from the initial study site. All set to occur within the span of 100 years.

If we thought our first case scenario was challenging...this was definitely a new story. Questions became more stressed and confounding. For example: even if we did build a sea wall strong enough to protect island residences from savage hurricanes and sea level rise, how in the world would tourists get to their vacation homes when it would mean constructing a 60 mile bridge? How would we feed these tourists when all the local farms were sitting under the new Sound? How and where would we provide water and electricity to these islands?

The cost estimates of all our plans and disaster scenarios easily cleared billions and trillions of dollars. By the end of our 5-week assignment, everyone was exhausted from the stress of trying to confront and deal with a million different economic and ecological landscape woes. Even the hardcore environmentalists among us were ready to take a break and move on to planning something--ANYTHING--other then the North Carolina-version of Atlantis. We wanted to do something cute, easy, and short-term. Like a golf course or a playground slide.

However, this one assignment definitely had a long-lasting impact on me. Climate-induced sea level rise is a problem that is going to affect a lot of people. Even people who do not live near the ocean are in imminent danger. Our ways of life, communication, and perception need to change immediately, so that we can begin to fully envision and perceive the change that is upon us.

It's only when we know the full scope of the problem that we can truly begin to resolve it.

Today, on Blog Action Day, I encourage you to take the first step in understanding how vast this problem is, and how vast our global response must be.

Computers, K-12 education, and GIS

Recently, I ran across an interesting (but old, 2005) article by one of my favorite bloggers: Atanas Entchev. It was an editorial, in Directions Magazine, called "What Makes a Perfect GIS Job Candidate?". In the article, Entchev asks:

What makes a perfect GIS job candidate? Good education or good training?

...and ultimately concludes

Education and training are complementary, but distinct. Education is important, especially in the long run. But training is necessary, too.

I like Entchev's discussion on this and I also find it to be exceptionally true. GIS is something that takes learning both from the classroom and in the field to really master. I've definitely found this to be the case in my academic and professional life. However, one unfortunate fact remains that without classroom training, it's very unlikely that you will get professional training. In my experience, there really is no chicken-and-egg debate on obtaining computer skills. If you want a GIS (or any computer related job), you need to: 1) go to school for it and then 2) pick up the industry experience after you graduate. The real question is: when should students begin their GIS training?

These days, getting the initial academic training for GIS is relatively easy, provided you have access to a community college/university and a decent computer station. If you don't: then you are in trouble. Which is unfortunate, because GIS training can open doors to thousands of jobs and a multitude of different career pathways. It also is a great way to gain geographical literacy and improve spatial skills, something that young American's are showing an alarming lack of (according to the 2006 Roper survey, half of the 18-24 year olds surveyed couldn't find New York on a map). Studies have also shown that GIS has the potential to "improve problem and enquiry-based learning" and advance critical thinking skills in young children (Tschirner and O'Brien 2006, Hall-Wallace and McAuliffe 2001).

As a GIS specialist, encouraging young (and soon-to-be-working) K-12 students to learn GIS, is an important life goal for me. This might seem strange, given that I myself didn't learn about GIS till my final years of undergrad, and didn't gain mastery of the software till graduate school. However, my lack of early life computer skills and my current awareness of how important GIS is to the workforce, has made me all the more determine to advocate it's full-integration into K-12 public education system. I began this campaign little over a year ago, by holding GIS and geography technology workshops in an inner-city West Oakland high school as part of my work as an Albert Schweitzer Fellow.

During my work at Excel, I noticed a few things about today's K-12 students and their computer skills that I did not expect to notice. For one, I noticed that almost all the students I met had far more access to computers then I ever did at their grade level. Where as I learned typing skills on 10-year old typewriters, all my students learned how to type with word processors. I also noticed that my students were aware of computer 'lingo' in a way I never was at there age. They could easily tell the difference between a Mac and a PC, and were very informed about different internet sites, web browsing, and social networking.

However, for all their advanced computer skills, these 11th and 12th grade students did have some noticeable training gaps. In my earliest work with them, I quickly noticed that many of the students had rudimentary to non-existent geographical skills. Many of them did not know how to read a map, and couldn't tell the difference between a topo line and a rhumb line. We had to go over what a projection, what a datum was, what scale was...and, well, everything.

Looking back, I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised about my students imbalance of skills. In 1998, it was reported that 55% of American's owned a home computer. That number was up to 76% in 2005. Current reports show that more than 90% of students in grades 6-12 use computers regularly during school hours. However, starkly contrasting with the increase of computer skills is the steady decline of basic geographical training in our K-12 system. As early as 1979, researchers have notice that the "geographic knowledge of high school students is inadequate and that enrollment and achievement in geography education are low" (National Assessment of Educational Progress, 1979). This decline was particularly noticeable in the years when I was a K-12 student (80's-90's), when researchers found that only 16% of sampled high school students had taken a geography class (National Commission on Excellence in Education, 1983).

Recent data on the geographic performance of fourth, eighth, and twelth graders (see The Nation's Report Card: Geography 2001) shows a slight trend towards improvement in K-12 geographic training since 1994 (particularly for fourth and eighth graders). But that improvement appears to favor a particular racial and economic demographic. As the report shows, "the average score for students who were eligible for the Free/Reduced-Price School Lunch program was lower than the average for students who were not eligible for the program (i.e. above poverty guidelines)". Furthmore, inner-city kids appear to be at a distinct disadvantage, with "students in rural and urban fringe locations [having] higher average scores than central city students".

My year of work with the Excel students was definitely an eye-opening experience about what public education is currently offering lower-income students on the topics of computer skills and geography. On one hand, all my students were far more computationally advanced then I was at their age (and, thanks to a generous donation from Dell, they had many more on-campus computer resources then I did at their age). However, on the other hand, they were still suffering (as much as I was at their age) from the obvious decline of geographic training in our K-12 system.

I'm not going to make a fool of myself here and declare that everyone of my students wanted or was well-suited to pursue a career in GIS (many were not interested). However, the fact of the matter is we live in a digital world where computer skills are necessary for job placement and for everyday life. Furthermore, in order to have a competitive advantage in the employment market, students need more then just your average IT skills (i.e. typing, web browsing) that were standard K-12 learning fare in the 80's and 90's. In order to have the competitive edge, students today need to have computer skills that enable them to treat computers as analytical tools and not as mere data storage (or facebook-frenzy) devices. Furthermore, in our digital world, where geographical boundaries are being made shorter everyday, it is important to keep striving to improve geographical literacy in our K-12 students. To fail to do so, would only place the US labor and intellectual market further behind it's international competitors.

GIS can accomplish these tasks. Not just for the poor students, but for every student. In an education system where approximately 93% of geography teachers had degrees in education (note: only 28% had a degree in geography), GIS offers a (relatively, when compared to teacher re-training) low-cost and immediate way to jump start a large-scale US geographical curriculum. By combining computer training with geography lessons, teachers have a way to kill "two birds with one stone". Students will learn to use an industry-based software program that goes beyond the usual drill-and-practice educational software. At the same time, students will also increase their spatial-thinking and critical thinking skills, and gain introduction to basic geographical concepts (which notably, research shows that students who used computer tools even to a small or moderate extent had higher geography scores than students who did not use these tools at all).

I'm not assuming that implementation of this will be easy (it won't be....afterall, there is buying the software, making sure you have enough computers, sufficient IT help, etc etc). However, I think introducing a software into an existing K-12 classroom/curriculum structure is way better (and easier) then adding a new class or teacher to the K-12 curriculum. The beauty of GIS is in the vastness of it's applicability. Anyone (not just a geography class) can offer training in it, since so many fields use it.

End of story: GIS is a good idea for solving many of the current problems in the K-12 system. I hope my kids get a chance to learn it there, rather then having to wait to learn it in college (like I did).

Why Space? (aka "get a new PR department NASA")

Earthrise. December 24, 1968.


A few years ago, Elon Musk, stood before Congress and pointed out that the powerful dream and institution that once committed roughly two to four cents out of every U.S. tax dollar, employed up to 409,000 workers, and succeeded in having American's land on the moon was dying.

His reason? Normal people couldn't afford to make it into space.

Well, no disrespect to Mr. Musk, but I'm not sure that's the real reason. In fact, given that a lot of American's (like myself) are afraid of heights, I doubt many of us want to go into space-- even if we could afford it. Heck, I suspect the whole operation of getting people up there (even if it was cheap) would be highly unpleasant. It's cold (something every Californian fears), I hear there are no coffee shops (something every researcher needs), and I don't like how those white suits make my butt look (something every women is secretly thinking about).

Basically, I think Musk is assuming a lot by saying "every" American wants to go to space. However, he has a point in saying that the space program is in decline. It is a well-known fact that America's prominence in space is under siege. The signs are everywhere: decreased federal spending to NASA (NASA's current budget is little over 1/2 of what the budget was during the NASA's 1966 Apollo peak--in current dollars and utterly incomparable to what American's currently spend on pizza). The prolonged layoff of our current shuttle fleet (How's this for some Cold-War irony? If the US wants a ride to the space station we helped build, we are going to have to hitchhike with the Russians. ::insert one big Werner von Braun laugh here::). Continued project delays, China and India's new breakthroughs...add it all up, and it spells one, big, clear message: "Houston, we failed".

But, is the reason this is all happening because the U.S. public has stopped dreaming of space? Or is this (very real) disinterest tied to something else? Is it just a symptom of the cause? Is the incomprehensible cost and feat of taking an ordinary American to space, doing what Musk suggests: stifling our dreams and stopped us from striving?

My answer is no. I think American's are very interested and inspired by space exploration and space related technology. For evidence, look at how the most classic story of space exploration--Star Trek--did in the movie theaters this year (fyi, it was the 8th highest-grossing film of 2009).

Still not convinced? Okay. Think those dollars reflect more about Chris Pine's 'stumble-and-grin' line delivery then how the nation feels about space exploration? Fair enough. I'd really like to cite the rave reviews of Hubble 3-D in Imax as further case-and-point to this argument...however, that won't be released till next year. So, in lacking better evidence, I'll just google up some recent headlines, like:

1) The MIT kids who launched a $150.00 space balloon...

2) ...and the IOS's work to create an 8,000 launch price for personal satellites...

3) ...and Bolonkin's idea for a High G-force Magnetic Space Launcher (think: big techno slingshot in the middle of somewhere large and remote...like that space between George W's ears....how freaking cool is that)?

For me, these are all prime examples of U.S. innovation currently taking place to feed our healthy and robust space interest. Because space exploration is cost-prohibitive, there are indeed a slew of students, private industries, and professors currently dedicating their lives to creating the next affordable taxi cab to Mars. Furthermore, because funding is bad, many of these people are performing these feats of brilliance for far less money then what the newest blond is making on the reality show "The Hills" -- which, to me, only emphasizes how dedicated these individuals are to making space a national priority.

However, what about the "other" folk? The folk without the PhD's, corporate funding, and MIT's resources? What about the "public opinion"? Why are there polls saying that space exploration isn't a public priority anymore and why is public opinion being held responsible for the recent reductions in federal research funds (because, as Abraham Lincoln once eloquently put it, “Public opinion in this country is everything”)?

Quite simply, I don't think the public clearly understands what space research is, how much it does (and is doing), and how important it's going to be for helping us tackle the pressing issues that trouble us here on Earth.

Maybe it is because NASA only get's 1% of the overall federal budget, but their PR engine is pretty bad. Atrociously bad in fact. Most people seem to associate NASA with rocket launching and space walks and are completely unaware of the numerous social benefits that NASA has contributed to. To emphasize this fact, in 2007, USA Today offered a list of the “Top 25 Scientific Breakthroughs” that occurred in it the past 25 years. Of these 25 breakthroughs, nine of these came from space, eight directly from NASA. Michael Griffin, on NASA's website, is quoted saying:

“We see the transformative effects of the Space Economy all around us through numerous technologies and life-saving capabilities. We see the Space Economy in the lives saved when advanced breast cancer screening catches tumors in time for treatment, or when a heart defibrillator restores the proper rhythm of a patient’s heart….We see it when weather satellites warn us of coming hurricanes, or when satellites provide information critical to understanding our environment and the effects of climate change. We see it when we use an ATM or pay for gas at the pump with an immediate electronic response via satellite. Technologies developed for exploring space are being used to increase crop yields and to search for good fishing regions at sea.”

As a remote sensing specialist, I cannot agree with Michael more. I personally "see" the effects of space travel all around me. It is heart and soul of my own life, and with me in (almost) all of my cartographic work. In fact, I still remember the moment, when looking at the Earthrise photo in my first GIS textbook, when I realized that Armstrong's walk might have been a cool journey, but his photos were the real discovery.

Thanks to space technology, I am able to map our planet and it's inhabitants in a manner that would've never been possible had we kept our feet (and funding) on Earth. By doing this I am able to generate information and insight that not only creates cool maps, but serves the U.S. by providing cheap, critical, and strategic information about key public interests which (unlike space exploration) did happen to make the 'priority' list (such as defense, clean energy, environmental concerns, economic development...just to name a few).

Thanks to space technology, I also don't need to be in space to perform this job either. Which is good, because I still don't think I want to go.

Which brings me to my point. Considering that everytime a United States citizen sleeps on a Tempur-Pedic bed, or contemplates neurosurgery, or answers their cell phone...we are experiencing a benefit that we can thank NASA for, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say NASA just needs a new PR department. Not a special discount on space tickets.

I mean, really Mr. Musk, with all the things NASA has done on Earth, why do any of us need to leave the neighborhood to see the local improvements? The value of exploring space is all around us, just as the dream is clearly alive in every sci-fi movie, book, and game we have in circulation.

The only thing missing here, Mr. Musk, is the "Courtesy of NASA" stamp.

27, (not) Single, White, Female seeks place to live...

Roommates: I'm sorry, but I am off-the-market. You cannot have me anymore.

Or, at least you random roommate-folk cannot (I'm still leaving myself available for the willing friend, as a possible backup option). But I'm serious this year, I am off-the-market to the rest of you. I don't care how charmed you are by the title "UC Berkeley researcher" (note: it's really not as cool as it sounds, and how exactly is having me and my many degrees living in your smelly garage going to impress anyone?) . I don't care how excited you are about my gardening/baking skills (note: I'm really not thrilled that you are hovering around asking me "what's cooking" thinking it's going to win you a morsel either). I don't care how much you are counting on me to save you everytime that your hard-disk crashes (note: just because we share a hallway and some toilet paper does NOT mean that I'm obligated to fix your computer!!! Get it? Got it? GOOD.). I also REALLY don't give a shit that my "polite, friendly, and considerate" demeanor have given you the impression that I want to become your new best friend and listen to you rant everyday for 3 hours while I'm trying to cook dinner and watch tv.

...Or clean up your used tampons off the bathroom floor.
...Or step around your barf on my bathroom rug.
...Or try to rescue your dead underfed gerbil from the kitchen sink (where he no doubt went to commit suicide to escape YOU).
...Or listen to you boink three guys in your upstairs, creeky, loft without an ounce of shame or volume control.

That's it. Really. We are not going to live together. Sorry, but this era is coming to an end.

Remote, sick, and employment

Montage of madness is the only way to describe my current events...

Ben was hit hard by a plague/cold/kiss of death last week, which inevitably decided to take turns with me this week. Not the best of timing, as I had some hardcore job interviews lined up. Should've expected that though. Doesn't it seem only like my classic good-luck that I would come down with this plague right when I resume my ever-eventful search for that next post-grad step? Naturally.

Anyways, I (definitely) know I'm better off then some in this economy. Having said that, I definitely won't resort to whining about my current career prospects (especially since I do currently have a steady, if not well-paying, gig...with the much needed at the moment health-insurance) . However, I must admit it's hard to sum up where I feel like I fit in (career-wise) at this point. I hold a Master's in Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning, but my interests and training go very beyond the job offerings of those fields. So, honestly, as I sit here punching away at my C.V. trying to define and redefine that "career objective", the next step is very unclear and ambiguous to me.

I think, the heart of my problem here is what I studied and how I studied it. To be specific, I spent a healthy bulk of my time in grad school learning and perfecting my remote sensing skills. I liked what I learned about the field, and definitely would like to carry it over to industry if I could (where I could learn more without going further into grad debt). However, unfortunately, most of the remote sensing positions I'm interested in are more leaning more towards candidates with hard-core programming experience (we are talking the C++ hard core coder engineers). This appears to be true even if they don't mention it in their recruiting ads. For example: a very interesting SF carbon start-up called Terra Global, seemed by their job description to fit me very well (ENVI experience? Check. Supervised and unsupervised land classification? Check Check. Biomass inventory and forestry work? CHECK!!!). In fact, I actually got a call back for an interview (EXCITEMENT!!)....but unfortunately, they hired someone before my interview turn came around (bummer.). I sent my usual "I understand, please keep me informed of opportunities, and P.S. how could I improve to meet your needs(?)", and got a very polite letter from the managing director explaining that though I definitely had a strong developing remote sensing skill set, I still lacked the hard languages background and programming experience he thought were necessary (also, he added, "was I interested in consulting offers(?)").

And so the story goes....

I'd definitely be lying if I didn't say that I felt like my minimal programming experience was a weakness of mine, and a hinderance in getting into the hard core remote sensing stuff. Both my geography and (definitely) my environmental planning background did not place any sort of emphasis on programming talents. What I do know are mostly sub-languages like SQL and Visual Basic, (which are more handy for heavily-GUI'd packages like ESRI GIS and Microsoft Access)...and those skills I mostly picked up from doing database work.

Problem with remote sensing is that it is a very hard skill set to develop outside of very elite academic institutions. The software is very cost prohibited (Definiens licenses can run 7500-10,000) . ENVI isn't much better (4,000-6,000). Even with educational discounts, many institutions just find it too darn expensive to provide for their students. Also, there is the instructor problem. The few professors with the professional aptitude and intellectual interest for teaching remote sensing (i.e. which, I find, requires an unusual combo of atmospheric physics, geostatistics, computer science, and geospatial training) rarely, if ever, have the technical programming aspects down. That particular widget of info is delegated to either a T.A. (recruited, most likely, from a department outside of Geography and Planning... usually in the electrical engineering/computer science ranks)...or just ignored all together. As a result, many remote sensing classes are more entrenched in teaching the "statisticals and the theoreticals" of the field, rather then practicing with the latest software and learning the necessary computational techniques (as I personally found to be the case with my earliest remote sensing classes at Berkeley...which is why I started taking classes at Davis later in the game).

At the end of the day, I think my only option for really boosting my resume to offer the remote sensing skills that company's (like Terra Global) require is going back to grad school. Not just any grad school either, but an "elite" program, like UCSB Geography or UC Davis. I can't say the prospect of doing that really thrills me at the moment...especially since I'm so exhausted after jumping through the hoops at my last program. However, in my (at this point, very real,) feverish delirium of where my career is pointing me, I am becoming very aware of something I wasn't aware of before I applied for that legendary master's of landscape architecture and environmental planning.

This summer, while en-route to new career paths, I've been taking the time to talk to some like-minded undergrads who want to transition their theoretical geographical background into a landscape architecture or environmental planning career. This of course makes sense for them to do, since the program that I just jumped hoops through was a Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning program (and ranked #2 or #3 last time I heard), and well...it (*seems) like I'm actually currently employed in it (I say 'seems' because I think my actual workload has transcended the limits of the typical architecture & planning education several times).

I've got to admit, just by looking for jobs, you begin to realize that Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning are very broad (and sometimes, very separate) fields. There are also many career paths in them. However, one common theme I'm struck by (as I am busy scouting the job market and advising new recruits) is how many environmental planning and landscape management firms are really starting to thinking about the "big" picture. The scale and the scope of the assignments out there have grown. People are not turning to landscape architects and environmental planners to ask how to best plant their garden, or manage their local creek. They are now turning to landscape architects and environmental planners to ask how to stop global warming, or fix the multitude of ailments of entire watersheds.

I feel like my graduate program openly embraced these large scale questions, but did not have many classes addressing what tools are necessary and how to work at such a comprehensive and holistic scale. GIS, CAD and hand drawing were the typical 'tools-of-trade' taught in my program. Remote sensing was entirely ignored by the students and the professors...and anyone interested in it (like me) had to go far outside of the department to find the training and resources. CAD and hand-drawings, only really useful for fine-scale design rather then large scale analysis, left GIS as the only pathway for understanding these large scale questions. Frankly, I think that's a bad thing. GIS data is progressively moving further away from being files captured by ground-based instruments (i.e. GPS, weather/water gauges, etc) and more closely to being files generated by large-scale models and from high-resolution imagery. This is not to say that there isn't a place or use for ground-based data (definitely, it is necessary to have it to be capable of validating accuracy in all image and model dependent data), it's just to say that more and more the vector and raster layers we use in GIS are somehow tied to a science that most landscape architects and environmental planners have no training or familiarity with.

GIS, for all it's merits, can be an exceptionally dangerous thing in the hands of the ill-informed. With the plethora of (mostly free) data out there, it's all too easy to add a bunch of data layers and make pretty maps of large scale phenomenon that really have no basis in logic or reality. With the multitude of pressures my colleagues face (from development deadlines, to permitting applications, to the competitive bid processes), I see too much of this "pretty map making" and very little logical thought process behind the "map making". The emphasis almost always seems to be placed on making the map look "good" as oppose to making it make sense.

A wise-teacher once told me that the methodology of properly adding, modifying, and modeling GIS layers is intrinsically dependent on how the information was gathered, by what source, and for what purpose. Since much of this large-scale GIS information is now coming to 'us' (i.e. landscape architects and environmental planners) via satellite feed and computer simulations, it's important for us to be able to interpret how these remote process work and what laws they obey. You simply can't learn that by blithely adding GIS output data layers at your whimsy till they assemble the pretty patterns of your mind. It's just utter ignorance to do such, and raging stupidity to present such information under the deceiving visual guise of a "fact-based" map.

I can definitely respect landscape architects and environmental planners for the scale and scope of their vision....but unless their information comes to me in the form of a clear, methods based, map product...I have little hope that their information will actually accomplish large-scale change or actually answer the large-scale issues they endeavor to address.

So, to all the new landscape and planning recruits with big-lollipop dreams of solving the next global crisis, I find I'm leaving them with this advice (advice, that I dearly hope all the wall street investors are taking into account these days): diversify yourself. Take the time outside your program to learn the source and makings of your data. Venture out of that GIS box, and meet up with the raw source, data, and code. Yeah, it's tricky...and it sure isn't what they are advising you to do right now in your program, but trust me, it will make you think better. Even with 3 years of remote sensing training under my belt, I truly believe I understand the logic (and deception) of geospatial maps better then ever before. As a result I also believe I understand the large-scale issues and their influences better then before.

Of course, there is a lot for even me to still learn (which takes us back to the top). Ideally, I'd hope to learn this on the job, but realistically, it might not be possible without further education. However, at the moment, I'm going to keep plodding (or wandering...depending on which day of the week it is) on this subject...because someday, I believe, my ability to know the source of the problem will enable me to make a earnest attempt in solving it.

::steps off puplit and heads to the sneezing room for more sudafed:::

9/11 and Ender's Game

(more thoughts later...)

Co-op day-ze....

(Summer 2003, Ridge House)

It's been a little over 2 months since I've left the Berkeley Student Cooperative system (formerly the USCA), that was my Berkeley home for over 5 years (with one gap year in between).

Now living as an urban nomad (aka subletter) I'm coming to terms with how much the co-op system did to help me feel at home in the Bay Area. As a nervous college student leaving my parents SoCal ranch for the "great hippie joint" to the North, I wasn't very prepared for adjusting to Bay Area life. Nobody in my immediate family or friend circle had ever moved away from home to go to college (...of those few who had gone to college). Dorm-life wasn't an experience that my mother could explain to me, and 12-years of "taking care of animals before school work" had definitely left me ill-prepared for the academic feeding frenzy known as U.C. Berkeley.

The best I could do was take some fashion advice from my model/suburbanite best friend Kellie, and hope to god that 2-years of community college and vocational upbringing had some useful relevance in the Bay Area.

I hit a lot of speed bumps, both academically and socially, those first few years at Cal. Mercifully, in my very first semester, I fell into a co-op household of people who were as kind as they were forgiving for my shortcomings (aka Ridge House). After that first semester at Ridge, I knew that as long as I was a student at Cal, I would remain in the co-op's. It was my main way of making friends and picking up the "outside-of-class" information you need to know to survive college-- and Cal in particular (for example: I couldn't afford to travel up for formal first-year orientation, so my Ridge housemates showed me how to use the college email/library accounts...which I would've never figured out without them).

Of course, not every co-op I lived in turned out to be as great as Ridge (namely the graduate co-op, the Convent, was my most negative co-op experience). However, I did take away something from each co-op I tried (and in total, I tried 3 houses and 2 apartments). I also picked up management roles towards the end (including Board Rep, Waste Mgr, and Secretary).

The co-op's and their residents taught me more then I could possibly express in a brief blog. It was Cal and the promise of an elite education that made my journey to the Bay Area necessary, however it was the co-op's that made the stay in the Bay Area worthwhile and rewarding.

For all you did, BSC: Thank you.

New Dawn, New Blog

NYC, August 6, 2006.


It was time.

I've had blogs in the past, which I'll keep active just for the sake of memories and old friends, but...I needed something new. Google-new.

To be honest, I haven't been keeping up with blogging in about...3 years? Roughly around the time I started grad school. In the past, my blogs were usually humorous (in my own mind) rants and worried soliloquies about being a student and my never-ending field work. My blogging adolescence. Fresh with uncomfortable grammar errors and acne scars. Not terribly proud of that stage, but it had to be lived.

This blog is wearing it's big-girl Google pampers though. It's going to talk about the geospatial technologies I'm working on (or hoping to work on), my freelance writing career (or lack thereof), some field and outback adventures, my efforts and reflections on recovering from a very chilling graduate school experience (at last, I have completed my master's), and my on-going work with the Oakland students and their pollution crusade.

I'll have my official website up soon, so I won't waste time on the background news. Suffice to say, each of these projects are in their seperate jars, bobbing blithely to different destinations.

In closing, a remembrance to christen the effort and honor the ominpresent vacancy of one beloved grandfather.

Aftermath

9 pm,
and the shoes are still warm,
of flesh and sun,
by the porch which has lost all it's moorings.
Above our heads: the cracks of little tile earthquakes,
and I'm still awake,
unsettled on wanting a cup of coffee.

The chimes are still dialing at their best,
to the sound of the world:
a dial tone, disconnected.
The casualties of erupting silence,
have put the burning mountains on hold.

Everywhere something to pick up,
A button thread, a root, a place.
But the sun itself has set too low,
and the stars have been lying to the compass.

Here: the last structure stands,
a passage of time erected.
And, yes yes yes,
we shall all live on:
in hour long minutes
waiting for the calls
of birds, long lost in the wind.