The life of an MDP-er (as we colloquially refer to ourselves now) consists of many hours spent in conjunction with your cohort. Its sort of like a family, a home away from home, and road trips are the perfect time for such familial bonding time – as if we don’t have enough. In attempts to better understand the water over-allocation issues of the American Southwest we had been studying through the book Cadillac Desert, our cohort piled into some rented vehicles and traversed the steep, winding roads through the awe-inspiring mountains of Colorado, sprinkled with yellows and reds from the Autumn transformation of the Aspens, to the Southwest corner wherein lay Mesa Verde National Park.
A quintessential picture of park ranger with chartreuse hat and all, an international traveler and teacher herself, led us through the wonders of the park with tantalizing tales of the toils of the Ancient Puebloan People (recently having learned that “Anasazi” has been deemed a derogatory term) their alternative solutions to the environmental challenges we still face in the arid southwest. In lieu of the dry climate, inconsistent rainfall, and harsh conditions of the desert, these resilient people found ways, for centuries, to maintain their existence in the area they found sacred by use of seep springs. This small water source is procured from the peoples’ homes in the cliff dwellings where water that has traveled down through several layers of porous rock until finally reaching an impenetrable layer of rock and seeping out into the caves. Dripping at an incredibly slow pace and fulfilling the required necessities of cliff-dwelling communities numbering hundreds, we learned perhaps the most important lesson one can obtain from a visit to Mesa Verde and a study of the ancient inhabitants of the Southwest: conservation. After a long, chilly day in the high-desert sun, we slowly trickled into the lodge for a lecture from Beth Richards an expert on the issue of Water Over-allocation in the American Southwest, particularly in New Mexico. The great West has contributed to an ever-growing wanderlust in the American spirit; and the harsh, dry environment of that same great West has complicated and challenged our desires for society ever since its discovery. In New Mexico the water rights are a mess of old, new, senior and junior titles which proves to be quite chaotic. With so little to allot, water becomes a scarce resource, fought over by industries and individuals. The chaos begs the question: Is water a public right of public ownership, and how do we determine how to allocate it?
More long hours in the car and a short stop at the Great Sand Dunes National Park brought us up to Camp Hale, outside of Leadville, 10,000 feet above sea level and approximately 30 degrees below our comfort level. An appreciative, adventure-seeker wilderness gal myself, I couldn’t help thinking – this is only October 10th? What do you people do in January? Nonetheless, our 26 Developers-in-Training braved the cold, mountain air for 36 hours in an environment perfectly equipped with the natural elements for some serious bonding: sleeping bags under tarps, dehydrated beans for dinner and synthetic layers of warmth. Our savior in the frozen toes and fingers: a campfire of stimulating conversation and a blanket of innumerable stars. I can say with confidence most MDP-ers were not to pleased with the overall outdoor experience and perhaps questionable of the relevance of the experience in terms of an academic degree. Yet in the vocation we are preparing ourselves for, do we not need training for the unpredictable, the uncomfortable, and especially, the undesirable situations. We are attempting to be “developers” in a world of disunity, genocide, hunger, environmental degradation, religions, cultures, confusion and compassion all melted together in a pot of chaos – amidst the plight of so many, could the least of our sacrifices be a few abrasive nights in nature?
Attempting to pack in the highest degree of educational information into a 5-day trip, we stopped in Minturn, a small town outside of Leadville, to learn the personal story of our director Dan’s involvement in a successful David and Goliath, class-action lawsuit: small-town, sweet Terry Pierson vs. Paramount Pictures. Paramount happens to own the land which houses the Eagle Mine, which over several decades allowed many toxic chemicals from their mine tailings trail into the water source of the Pierson family. Degrading air and water quality, ensuing health issues, and the consequential death of her husband led Terry to a quite unpredictable role of environmental activist. An incredibly humble and hospitable woman, she invited all 28 of us into her home for an afternoon of candid conversation, cookies, and a compelling story of individual bravery and industrial deception.
Those 5 days seemed a million. Stress, fatigue, saturated minds and difficult climates – completely unaccustomed for some – produced a group of overwhelmed intellectuals, all of which I’m sure appreciated their warm shower last night as much as I did. It doesn’t stop. A meeting at 9:00 AM downtown, emails to answer, a paper to edit, groceries to be bought, pdf files and more pdf files to read for class tonight…. the scintillating life of this Developer-in-training!
