Walking Journal #10

PROMPT: In your last two blog posts many of you commented on the amount and condition of the homeless population in Reno's downtown areas. Likewise, you noted the very different senses of place you encountered between downtown and your own neighborhoods. I would like you to discuss homelessness in our city. Jim Burklo, in his essay "Houselessness and Homelessness," makes a distinction between those who are houseless---the condition of people without a proper place to dwell--- and homelessness---the condition of people who are not entrenched in their community, though they may have a fine place to live. He suggests that those people we traditionally think of as homeless are actually merely houseless because they are more aware of the environmental factors with which they must contend than those who live in relative comfort and safety. With this in mind, I want you to revisit either the riverwalk or the casino district and to speak directly about what you observe in regards to homelessness/houselessness while you are there.

Especially in larger cities, a common sight is the hurried businessman, head down, working away on a smart phone while barely aware of his surroundings except to avoid bumping into people. These people are all too common: not aware of their surroundings, and not embedded within their community. While they may have a house, do they really have a home in the community? On the other hand, the homeless population is finely tuned into the place in which they live: more aware of the happenings that most of us just take for granted. While they may not have proper shelter or a house, do they have more of a “home” than many of us?

I considered this idea that while “houseless,” the homeless population may have more of a home in the town than the majority of people on a walk through downtown. There is a sense of distance from the community by many of the “locals”: the businessmen and everyday townspeople of Reno. They wander the streets, sometimes hurried and sometimes just groups out with friends, but how are they really connected to the town? Maybe they are connected to the town through volunteering or some other form of involvement, but the sad fact is that the majority of people that live in an area are probably not immensely involved in that place. The majority of these people probably do not go to city council meetings on a regular basis, and probably aren't all that involved within the community. Many people are quite selfish: they care for themselves and the ones that they care for, but expecting the everyday person to care for the community as well may be a stretch. But even at that, even just by living in a place, there is involvement. The people, while they may be indifferent as to many community affairs, still partake in community activities in small ways, like buying groceries from local businesses. However, while subconsciously involved, they are still “homeless” when compared to those who are merely houseless.

The difference between houseless and homeless is quite ironic: those that are at the bottom of the community are at the top in involvement, and vice versa. The sad fact is that many people living in an area just don’t care enough to be immensely involved. Those that are the most involved are the people who don’t have a proper house, and have made a home within the town. 

Walking Journal #9

PROMPT: Last time I asked you to visit the river walk area of town. This time I want you to, with a friend, visit the casino district. I am asking you to visit neighborhoods other than your own so that you begin to put the pieces that make up Reno as a whole into conversation. Make connections: How do these neighborhoods differ? In addition to the obvious physical differences, can you begin to comment on their differences in values? Also, how are they similar? Who controls the literal and spatial rhetoric of different places in Reno? As always, observe, ask questions, value complexity. Did you know that the casino district was once "off limits" to university students? In some way, is it still?

The casino district: this is the source of the bright lights that illuminate the skyline at night, the cradle of wailing sirens in the night, and the unfamiliar territory that must be avoided. This section of Reno has always been off limits to me: the streets of Downtown radiate an unfriendly feeling that screams at me to stay away; however, I’ve become more comfortable expanding my neighborhood with the comfort of friends. On this walk, I explored a bit of Downtown Reno: walking down North Virginia Street, the scenery changes instantly from campus to casinos: the steady brick buildings that are the University are replaced by tall, brightly colored, imposing buildings. It’s eerie: the bright friendly colors are meant to draw in potential victims, but they mask the darkness within: they’re like a Venus fly trap, enticing unwary flies with sweet nectar that is a façade for the danger inside. 

I’ve only been to three main locations in Reno: the Downtown casino district, the University, and the riverwalk. There is a definite change in atmosphere between the three: the University is my source of comfort. Anywhere on campus, I am surrounded by friendly faces and familiarity. As I leave the University and approach Downtown, my sense of familiarity decreases, and with it, my comfort. The people change as well: these aren’t University students anymore. The atmosphere is less friendly, and I walk these streets quickly, with less meandering than I do at the University. The riverwalk is almost like a mix of the two: I’m more comfortable with the open feel of the river, but still not entirely at home. There is a distinct feeling of the three areas.

Although the casino district is not “off limits” to students, there is still a definite divide between campus and casino. It’s not an area that I’m comfortable with, and I think many students feel the same: while allowed to visit the casinos, they seem somewhat forbidden to students.

Walking Journal #8

PROMPT: Up to this point, many of you have written about the campus as your neighborhood or about your hometown as your neighborhood. With a friend, I'd like you to take a stroll on the riverwalk downtown. Practicing the scholarly habits of mind we have discussed in class, consider the people and things you observe. What do you see? Who is there? The city spent millions to create the riverwalk, was it worth it? I want you to think about what the riverwalk symbolizes in regards to the city and its reputation; also, I want you to consider your role in the city at large, beyond your neighborhood comfort zone. You can talk about people, nature, advertisements, government spending, community building, or a topic of your choice. Get some exercise and enjoy the sun!

Today, I ventured outside of the bounds of my neighborhood. With a group from class, it was easier to turn to the left once outside of my dorm and explore the streets of Downtown Reno to the riverwalk.

The streets of Downtown Reno that separate the campus from the riverwalk are not as bad as the stereotypical Downtown makes them out to be – granted, I was with a large group, and I would still feel uncomfortable by myself. But, the streets were like that of a typical city: not necessarily the cleanest, not exuding nature, but decent city streets. The people who walked the streets seemed to range from the typical tourists to those of a more miscreant nature. 

There is a difference in the streets once the riverwalk comes into view: everything seems a bit more open; the buildings are no longer towering on either side, but there is a sense of openness. And not only does the space itself change, but the people as well. From the casual coffee drinkers at cafes near the river to more elegant tourists, the people seemed more sophisticated than those on the streets of Downtown. The riverwalk is not what I would consider “nature” at its finest, it still bears the resounding marks of civilization, but the idea is still nice. It certainly breaks up the feel of the city and the atmosphere is dramatically altered by a bit of nice landscaping and pretty river scenery. The air around the riverwalk seems a bit friendlier and more open than that of the casinos. Also, the riverwalk seems more thoughtful than the casinos: fountains and signs about the nature demonstrate attention, while the casinos seem to be lacking a former grandeur. Appearances are important: the riverwalk’s immediate ability to make the streets seem friendlier is worth the money that was put into creating it.

The riverwalk, while not necessarily “nature” is still a pleasant addition to the city. I think that it was worth it: the atmosphere of the riverwalk is so much friendlier than the casinos of Downtown. The idea of bringing nature into the city and making it more aesthetically pleasing is wonderful. 

Walking Journal #7

PROMPT: Our course theme is essentially an environmental theme, yet we've read about and are researching diverse subjects that may appear to have nothing to do with environmental issues. Nonetheless, each of your research projects is in some way local, and so your issue has everything to do with local environments. As you give yourself a break from writing this weekend, take a walk through your neighborhood with an eye toward the natural world. How is "nature," however you conceive of it, represented in your neighborhood? Can you trace the observable features of the natural world to some aspect of your own research? How? Think about our "habits of mind" when you respond to this prompt.

Today, my walk leads me to Manzanita Lake. When I think of “nature” on campus, it’s the first thing that comes to mind. Of course, Manzanita Lake is a merely a man-made pond on the University campus, but it’s the closest thing to nature I can imagine here. (Keep in mind, I’ve only really seen the University here in Reno – my neighborhood doesn’t extend far past the University’s borders). The ducks and geese that inhabit the lake are a reminder of nature, almost like a memory that doesn’t have quite all the details right. The lake is noisy: the squabbling of geese and the roar of the fountain isn’t quite right in my opinion of nature. To me, nature is peaceful; the babbling of a creek or the whistling of birds: not the harsh, urbanized roar of the fountain or endless quacking of ducks.

The nature that I’ve come across on campus is a memory of the true nature of the world: untouched, untainted by human hands. From Manzanita Lake to the little mock-river that runs down the steps to the Palmer Engineering building, there are echoes of nature left and right, just not the real thing.

For as long as I can remember, my family has spent the summers at our cabin: a small, humble cabin in the mountains of a small, humble town called Cobb. The town itself is about a fifteen minute drive from our cabin, and consists of about five stores total. The population? Maybe 1,000. Being at the cabin is my definition of nature: out on the deck you merely have to raise your head and be instantly enchanted by the soft swaying of trees that surround the cabin. The calls of birds and chattering of chipmunks is peaceful: not harsh. And a short walk from the cabin: a creek that leads into a magnificent waterfall. Now, there are signs of human involvement: there are man-made paths and other cabins in sight; but honestly, where can you find 100% uninterrupted nature in these times? It seems that everywhere you look is to some degree urban. But, nonetheless, this is my definition of nature.

The magnificent waterfall at the cabin.

One of the chipmunks, affectionately called Chip and Dale by my family, that inhabits the trees near the cabin.

The University makes an attempt at nature, and it’s comforting: sitting by the lake and listening to the geese argue is a reminder of nature in a vastly urbanized area. But it’s not what I think of when I think nature. Nature, in my mind, will always be the little cabin in the mountains. 

Walking Journal #6

PROMPT: Follow a route that you’ve already walked for a previous blog, but at a different time of day. The idea is to get a new perspective on your neighborhood. Compare the differences between walking the same route at different times.

Most of my time spent out in my neighborhood is between the hours of 8a.m. and 7p.m. Daytime. I leave my dorm to go to my eight-o-clock class every morning, and usually come home before sunset. This means that I don’t see a whole aspect of my neighborhood: the one that comes out at night. Today, I walked the neighborhood after dusk. The changes are subtle at first, but became more prevalent after more walking.

In the dorm, not much is different. The core of my neighborhood remains the same, day or night. As I leave the dorm, the changes are a bit more drastic. At first, it's just the absence of the bright sun that's different. There are still people around, out walking the streets, but it's not the same people that are out during the day: these are not students hurrying to their next class but social-goers, off to dinner with friends, or to go hang out. I look to my left, and the lights of Downtown Reno glare out in the otherwise dark sky. It’s almost beautiful: the lights of the casinos, a beacon of light in the darkness that envelops the rest of the skyline. However, on the streets it’s a different story. I once again steer away from the left, avoiding the eerie streets that are more haunting at night than in the day, regardless of the lights above.

To my right is the University campus. I once again walk the route of my classes, past Lincoln Hall and the rose gardens, and past Manzanita Lake. Once again, where unfamiliar territory greets me I turn and walk the other way. This occurs more often at night: darkness and unfamiliar territory combined only deepen the unsettling feeling. My neighborhood is more confined to the areas that I’ve grown to know in the daytime.

The neighborhood at night is quite beautiful; it’s an unsettling beauty but a beauty nonetheless. It’s something about the bright lights of the Downtown skyline sharply contrasted by the quiet of the night that lets the beauty seep out. My neighborhood is considerably smaller under the cover of darkness, but the harsh beauty of the night shows a side of the town that isn’t visible during the day. 

Walking Journal #5

PROMPT: For post #5 I want you to investigate transportation in your neighborhood.  How do you get around? What obstacles do you face? What kinds of transportation are available to you? Do you ever use public transportation? Who does? Do you wish public transportation was better in our area? How so? What good would it do?

Transportation. Around campus, I rely on my feet to take me from place to place. The walk from my dorm to class is generally only a five or so minute walk. I enjoy walking through campus: meeting friends on the way to class, wandering through the rose gardens or just appreciating the beauty of campus. For the University, walking is my chosen mode of transportation and serves me well. There aren’t really any downsides to walking through the campus: the way I see it, I get exercise while I enjoy the scenery on my way to class.

On campus, walking is, in my opinion, the best way to get around. Sure there are other ways, like biking and skateboarding, but they aren’t really necessary, at least not for me. There is the option of driving, of course, but there just isn’t a need to drive around the campus, not to mention that most of the people I’ve met here don’t have their own cars. However, if the need arises to travel off campus, walking is not a valid option for me. As I’ve mentioned, my neighborhood, the area I feel comfortable in, stops abruptly to the left of my dorm: the infamous Downtown Reno. Walking, while sufficiently carries me around campus, has met its limitation.

Of course, there is always public transportation. Recently, I’ve run into quite the conundrum with transportation in Reno: for my volunteer work for the Honors Program, I need to get to a location in Reno. Unfortunately, the only bus routes that will take me to my destination require that I walk through Downtown in order to get the bus stop. This makes me wish that Reno had a better system of public transportation. The benefits of a good public transportation system are infinite: not only does it allow people to easily travel through the town, but it’s a good way to help the environment by reducing the amount of cars on the road and therefore reducing carbon dioxide output.

Transportation at the University is really a matter of preference. Whether you’re like me and enjoy walking the familiar paths, or choose a method of biking or skateboarding to class, transportation on campus is no problem. The only issue arises when transportation off campus becomes a necessity. While there is a system of public transportation, it could be greatly improved. 

Walking Journal #4

PROMPT: As you move through your neighborhood, consider the role of advertising. What kinds of ads do you see/encounter? Where are they and what forms do they take? Do the advertisements in your neighborhood reflect neighborhood values? Your values? How do they influence you? Are the ads you encounter inviting you to be a consumer, a practicing citizen, or both? Do you agree with their messages? How easy is it to just pass them by?

As you walk through campus, there are a plethora of advertisements: Greek life, the Joe Crowley Student Union, Wolf Shop, football, and bulletin boards advertising upcoming events. The common theme of all these advertisements? Wolf pack! The majority of advertising that I see on campus has a common theme of supporting some aspect of the University. There are trifold posters and dedicated students advertising Greek life, flags on the way to the Joe advertising restaurants and the Wolf Shop, and bulletin boards. Bulletin boards are everywhere on campus: from the dorms to the Joe, there are bulletin boards on every open wall, advertising everything from upcoming concerts to intramural volleyball tournaments. Then there’s the students: the students themselves are a form of advertisement. Students wearing Blue Crew shirts, wearing shirts dictating students to shop at the Joe, and students wearing shirts depicting Greek life. Advertisement is literally everywhere on campus.

The advertisements on campus reflect aspects of the University. My neighborhood values are reflected by advertisements: the University is my neighborhood, and all aspects of the University are reflected in the advertisements.

I have to say, the advertisements on campus are quite influencing. When you live at the University, spend most of your time on campus, and are surrounded by advertisements promoting more aspects of the University, it’s easy to get caught up in University life. And the ads aren’t directed at a specific facet: whether you’re a consumer wondering where to buy that Nevada sweatshirt or a citizen wondering how to get involved in the campus, the ads around campus tackle it all.

Advertisements on campus are endless. There are advertisements for just about anything University-related, with enough variety that there’s sure to be something for everyone. It’s hard to ignore all of these advertisements – whether you’re walking to class or looking for upcoming events, there are advertisements in every nook and cranny of the University. 

Walking Journal #3

PROMPT: I want you to consider more deeply the way race and gender figure into your neighborhood. You should think about demographics, certainly, but look more closely: are there specific representations of race or gender in your neighborhood? What are they? How do you know they are coded to/by specific races or genders? What are the marks or framework of racialized or gendered space? What role does mobility or participation play in your assessment? Is a sense of safety different for disparate groups? Who is "out of place" in your neighborhood? You might also examine the school in this regard. Again, it is not necessary to answer all of these questions; my goal is that you begin to critically analyze your preconceptions about where you live.

I live in Manzanita, the only all girls dorm on campus. My neighborhood, at least the immediate neighborhood consisting of my dorm and neighbors, is very gender separated: there are only girls! The signs are obvious: as you walk down the halls, doors are open to brightly colored, friendly looking spaces. Girls walk the halls, asking neighbors for fingernail polish or to borrow a hair dryer. The whole hall has a very friendly, girlish feel. From visiting friends in Lincoln Hall, the all boy dorm on campus, I can tell you that it’s a different story. Even just walking by the outside of the dorm, the vibe is different. The steps are filled with guitar-toting guys on most days, and inside the dorm it’s much less talkative than Manzanita. These are the two places on campus that are clearly representations of gender.

Of course, once you leave Manzanita and Lincoln, it’s a different story. There’s an equal mix of genders and races outside of these two dorms. I’m from a small-ish town in California, near Sacramento, and the neighborhood that I grew up in was primarily white. Coming here to Reno has certainly been different, and I like it. The mix of ethnicities on campus is so different from back home. I can’t help but think about the rich cultural mix that we have on campus, which is so different from what I’m used to. Back in Manzanita, we’re fairly well mixed racially. Because my neighborhood doesn’t extend far past the borders of the University, I can’t say I’ve discovered many places that I would classify as being “racialized space.” As far as I’ve discovered throughout the University, everywhere is welcome to everyone. Everyone here seems friendly and open, regardless of race or gender.

As open as everyone is, there is a definite line between students and University members and “outsiders.” It’s not too common in the interior of the campus, out by the Quad where most of the classrooms are concentrated, but walking down North Virginia Street, there is a definite feel of outsiders: migrants from the streets of the nearby Downtown Reno. Students sense the outsiders and tend to walk by quickly with heads bent down and path in mind. But these instances aren’t too common, and are the exception to the welcoming feel that most of the University exudes.

No, as a University, I wouldn’t say that there’s really any “racialized or gendered space,” other than the obvious Manzanita and Lincoln Halls. Everyone seems to be welcome everywhere. The only outsiders seem to be those who clearly aren’t from the University. Otherwise, the University is welcoming, whatever the race or gender. 

Walking Journal #2

PROMPT: We've talked about the politics of mobility, of place, and of food. With this in mind, how are you involved in the place in which you live? How do you create place for those around you? How does what you do and how you live participate in a kind of “politics”? I am interested in your impact and effect in place-making/meaning-making. Develop your ideas based on your first post and our readings.

How am I involved in the place I live? How does my presence affect the place and those around me? It’s not something I normally consider. My involvement, at least on a conscious level, is minimal. Sure, I go to school at the University and live in the dorms, but I don’t feel connected to much of the town of Reno outside of the University. When I think of involvement in a town, I think of going to city council meetings and doing volunteer work, neither of which I’ve had a chance to do here. But perhaps that’s the cliché. Perhaps just by living in a town, I’m automatically involved by default. Perhaps the small choices I make have an impact on the town that I don’t consider as a part of my daily life.

So, with this mindset, how involved am I in the place I live? Well, I go to school at the University, which is huge. The University draws people from all over to the town of Reno. The University is a huge part of the town, and I’m involved in that. The fact that I chose the University over the other schools that accepted me (there were twelve total) also says something. All of the other schools I was considering were in California, from UC Davis to UC Irvine to UC Santa Barbara, and yet I decided to go to my one out of state school. What does this say about me? My movement from California to Nevada has changed my way of life considerably: I’ve gone from a house in a suburb to a dorm in a city. The changes in the last few weeks have drawn me closer to the place I live, although it’s not always something that I consciously think about.

My presence here doesn’t only affect me; I now have a roommate and neighbors, classmates, and friends that this place has created. My roommate and I have effectively carved out a niche in our residence hall, our dorm room our own little taste of home in a new place. The once blank walls of our dorm are covered in photos from home and comforting reminders. This is now our place, and we’ve had an obvious effect on it, although it may not be a major long-term effect.

As for the impact I’ve had here, well, I chose the University, like so many others, and because of that I’m here, in Reno, instead of back in my home town. My day to day choices may not seem very impactful to me at first, but when I think about it, just my being here says something. Whether it’s a choice to eat locally one day, or buy clothes and supplies secondhand, my presence will have an effect here in the long run. I’m sure that as I spend more time in Reno I’ll begin to see more ways that I affect the town, and as I grow, I may even see what effect the town has on me. 

Walking Journal #1

PROMPT: Go for a walk in your “neighborhood.” How do you define it? By landmarks? The people within it? Your sense of familiarity and safety? Then ask yourself, what determined your route through your neighborhood? The terrain? The things you encountered? Lastly, what were your impressions?

I grew up living in the town of Folsom, California. In my eighteen years spent there, I moved once: to another, larger house in Folsom, with about a five minute drive between the two. Moving to Reno has been different. No longer am I surrounded by the same people I've grown up with for all my life, nor the familiar coffee shops, favorite stores and streets that I've walked all my life. In Folsom, my “neighborhood” was considerably large: it enveloped the streets I drove to school every morning, the Starbucks I met friends for coffee at, my best friend’s house, and my own house – even extending to the next town over where friends would gather to hang out. My “neighborhood” was defined by the areas I knew and was comfortable in: the places I felt at home.

Living in Reno is a different story. My humble dorm room is the center of my “neighborhood.” I pass familiar people in the common areas of the dorm and feel at home with my roommate. As I venture out of my dorm room, the borders of my neighborhood are clear: to my left is Downtown Reno. The unfamiliarity and hazy feel that haunts the streets form a clear boundary. A curious factor of my neighborhood is that it is ever changing: when walking with my roommate, my neighborhood seems to bulge and stretch; areas that may have seemed unclear before are more open with a friendly face next to me. But, as we’re both newcomers to Reno, this only gets us so far. Surrounded by a group of friends, especially ones familiar with Reno, the edges of my neighborhood stretch even more. The comfort of being with friends lessens the fear of unfamiliar territory, allowing my neighborhood to expand, for the time. But, as I’m alone on this exploration of my neighborhood, my path takes me through the University of Nevada, Reno campus. Directly outside of my dorm is the beautiful Manzanita Lake, providing a relaxing walk to the campus buildings. I wander past countless buildings that I have become accustomed to through my classes, through the rose garden outside of the Thompson building, along the familiar Lincoln Hall, past the Knowledge Center, and up to the Joe Crowley Student Union. This presents me with another boundary. Unfamiliar territory greets me past the Joe, so I walk back down the street through campus, past the Living Learning Community, and by the cafeteria below Argenta Hall, ending my journey back in the comfort of my dorm at Manzanita Hall.

The boundaries of my neighborhood are clear: uncharted territory is off limits. Now, my neighborhood is defined by my comfort with my surroundings and places I know well: the University is the core of my neighborhood, but as I begin to explore more of Reno, my neighborhood will expand into areas that I previously felt were out of reach. For now, my neighborhood remains considerably smaller than the one I grew up in, but every day it grows a bit larger as my comfort with Reno develops. 

Introduction

This is a blog for my English 102 -1004 class. The theme of the class is "In the Watershed Moment." 

"Every local activity or event, whether associated with production or consumption or exchange or leisure time choices is in some sense not just local, but global as well" 

Edward W. Soja

"A world of complex connectivity...links the myriad small everyday actions of millions with fates of distant, unknown others and even with the possible fate of the planet"

John Tomlinson

"All life on the planet is interconnected in a few obvious ways, and in many more that remain barely explored. But there is a distinct resonance among living things and the factors which influence them that occurs specifically within each separate place on the planet" 

Peter Berg and Raymond Dasmann