Green insights

Tag: writing

  • A Toxic Tour Through Picher

    A couple days ago I drove through Picher, Oklahoma as members of L.E.A.D. Agency gave a toxic tour. During this tour, we discussed the history of all the sites we had visited, their current states, and ways in which these sites are being remediated. There were quite a few sites that stood out to me during this tour.

    One of our first stops was by a large field of Tallgrass. I pulled off the side of the road into a small parking lot. I asked what we were stopping for. My first thought was that we were looking at the looming chat pile to our left. However, the actual focus was the field of grass, which once used to be a residential neighborhood. All of the homes had been destroyed. Much of the destruction can be attributed to the 2010 tornado which blew through Picher, tearing down homes and sandblasting the ones that remained standing with chat. One of the only remaining pieces of evidence that homes used to be there was the three space parking lot.

    Our next stop was by the Picher repository. From a distance, the repository looked like a gigantic, flat chat pile. However, it was actually made up of the chat and mining waste that could not be repurposed. The waste found here has extremely fine particle size and a darker color then most chat. When we stepped out of the truck, I noticed a trail of this waste running down the side of the hill. L.E.A.D. Agency informed me that this waste measures around 13,000 ppm of lead. This is far above the upper safe threshold of 400 ppm.

    The most shocking sight of the entire tour was the “Anti-Fountain of Youth”. After exiting the car a last time, I heard the noise of running water. At first, I thought it was the flowing noises from Tar Creek, but when I looked over the bridge, the water was relatively calm. After walking farther down the road, I saw the source of the noise. Slightly covered by the Tallgrass and cattail stems, there was an actual fountain spewing out orange-tinted water. This fountain was an old bore hole. The liquid being pumped out was acidic mine drainage (AMD), and it was flowing straight into Tar Creek. When I heard that the AMD was seeping out of the mines into the surrounding environment, I imagined a slow flow of water. The amount of pressure with which the AMD was being pumped out at, to the point at which it was going up in the air a couple feet was mind blowing.

    On a final note, I would like to say that we saw a beaver dam and a family of ducks in Tar Creek. This highlights how there is still life present in this creek, giving us even more reason why we must work our hardest to remediate it, and prevent events like this from occurring again in the future.

  • How can we Preserve Biodiversity?

    First, let’s answer the question: “What is biodiversity?”. Biodiversity is the term encompassing the variety of life, such as variety in species, in genes, and even ecosystems. This is a critical aspect of nature because it provides stability to an ecosystem, and greater resistance to disasters and disease.

    The main threats to biodiversity are habitat loss, invasive species, and overexploitation of resources. Humans play an important role in these three threats. For habitat loss, deforestation is a prime example of how humans cause biodiversity loss by destroying species’ habitats. Additionally, humans have been responsible for the introduction of many invasive species by means of transportation. Many of these invasive species were not intentionally introduced, but they would act as stowaways on ships or other vehicles, being transported to a foreign ecosystem where they could thrive and disrupt the balance and biodiversity. For the third threat, humans can over use the resources of the land by over fishing, hunting, or mining, which would destabilize biodiversity.

    So how can we prevent these issues from happening?

    As people living on this Earth, we should also care for it. While it would be unrealistic to address every single threat to biodiversity, we can at least reduce our own contributions to its decline. The best ways to do this are to reduce deforestation and set limits or taxes when fishing and hunting. There are many nations already implementing these changes, but for them to stick, the regulations must be even more strict than they are now. This strictness could come in forms of hard stops in terms of fishing and hunting activity after passing a specified amount, or increased taxes when it comes to deforestation.

    There are also many ways in which humans can address the invasive species problem. The first would be to minimize of completely get rid of human involvement in introducing invasive species to new ecosystem. This could be achieved by thoroughly checking vehicles for any stowaway species before departing. For the invasive species that have already been introduced to a new ecosystem, people can report them to local authorities. In some regions, the hunting of invasive species is allowed, and you may be rewarded for the amount of specimens you catch.

    While this blog has many proposed solutions to the broad threats to biodiversity, these solutions would be very difficult to achieve without substantial support and compliance from institutions. We must cooperate with each other and think about the good of this planet and its inhabitants (including us!) and build our world into a safer and healthier place for the future.

  • My Experience at The 27th Annual Tar Creek Conference

    It’s my first time at a conference. I feel nervous, not sure what to expect. I get there and I realize I am going to present my research in less than 30 minutes. The nerves start to kick in and I wonder if people are going to like it.

    The time comes, I walk in the room, I set up my poster. 20 people swarm around me and stare. Suddenly I feel the nerves fade away. I realize something: this is my research; I know my research better than anyone else in this room. I own it, and I have to make that clear. I start talking and all eyes are on me. I spoke slow and steady, and when I looked at the crowd, I saw people who care, people who want to know more. What do I do? I give it to them.

    The point of scientific research is to give your results back to the community. The final goal is to fill a gap in understanding, but in doing that, ten more gaps are created. That’s the beauty of research: the job is never done.

    I finish presenting, I am greeted with a round of applause. A couple of researchers stay to inquire about my experience. A news reporter takes me aside to interview me. The whole ordeal feels otherworldly. If you told me five years ago that I would be presenting my first research project at a national conference, and gaining the attention of other established researchers in the field, I would have said that you’re crazy. But no, thats not craziness. Rather, it is passion.

    Passion. It’s something that connects all humans. Every person has a passion of some kind. Mine is for environmental science. Yours could be for music. The point is that we are all passionate about something, and that’s what makes us people. At the Tar Creek Conference, I saw a whole crowd of people with the same passion as me. They are my people. Each presenter that went up onto the podium took a moment to connect with us, to connect with the community. There was one gentleman who took photographs of birds and insects. Each photo was different and marvelous in its own way. Whether it be the softness of the species, or its facial expression, or the way light reflected off the wings, each one was special. For each photo he showed, the crowd reacted a little more. Up until the point where we were laughing and cheering for the last few birds. We were united.

    I hope that in my attempt to convey the poetic nature and atmosphere of the conference, that I did not take away from it. For no words could do justice to what I experienced today.

    Actually, there is one word that comes close. A simple word, but one with meaning.

    Magical.

  • A Drive Through Picher: Where Memories and Toxic Dust Linger

    It was a sunny Monday afternoon when I decided to drive to Picher, Oklahoma, just 20 miles away from where I live. I’ve done a lot of research on this area and knew all about its history — the 2008 tornado that devastated the town, the toxic groundwater seeping from abandoned mines, and the enormous, looming chat piles scattered across the landscape.

    Still, it had been many years since I last visited. On the short drive there, I found myself wondering what the land would look like now. Would the roads be blocked? Would there be anyone still lingering in this forgotten place? I’d heard stories about visitors being followed by locals or questioned by sheriffs and tribal marshals. At first, I was skeptical — I wasn’t even sure anyone spent time in Picher anymore.

    As soon as you enter the town, the remains of neighborhoods greet you. Houses are falling apart, and in many places, only brick foundations are left — the rest of the homes long gone. Each one gave me a haunting sense in my gut. I could almost imagine the lives once lived in those houses, the sounds of daily life in what was once a bustling mining town. But the second an image entered my mind, another ruin passed by, and the process repeated.

    Now that no one lives in them, it’s as if the memories these homes once held have been released into the world — swirling in the wind, waiting to be inhaled by someone nearby. Remind you of anything? That’s right — I’m talking about chat.

    Enclosing these ghost neighborhoods and lining the streets are massive chat piles — toxic mining waste. At first glance, I thought they were just hills, some reaching 300 feet tall. But on closer inspection, it was clear: these were mountains of toxic metal, chaotically spread throughout the city. On a windy day, the air could easily become laced with lead, cadmium, and zinc. Most piles were fenced off with barbed wire, but not well — I saw footprints winding through the gaps, where someone clearly got curious and decided to take a stroll on a literal hill of poison.

    What surprised me most was that a highway still runs through Picher — and it was busy. Cars zipped past like nothing was wrong. I exited onto a side road and started exploring deeper into the town, circling around Tar Creek, past skeletal buildings and contaminated land. After about 30 minutes of driving, I noticed a white pickup truck had been behind me for a while. Fifteen minutes, maybe more. I realized it had done a U-turn to stay behind me.

    At that point, I decided it was time to go.