Giving to your work
This has been the busiest summer of my working career (hence, the somewhat sporadic blogging – sorry about that!). I’ve given up much to it, in order to complete some very important projects and start a new business at the same time. A sailing vacation – lost to business travel. Time with friends and family spent working instead. My deck, hammock, and hot tub just calling out to be enjoyed, but empty – the weather hasn’t quite cooperated either, but still.
This last week took it to a new dimension. I had an opportunity to be involved in something I consider very important – be the facilitator for the start of the Natural Resource Damage Assessment process for the Hanford Nuclear Reservation. As part of the Superfund cleanup, chemicals and nuclear wastes are being dealt with in such a way that they will reduce risks to human health and contain the wastes and chemicals that have been released. This process, in contrast, is intended to restore the natural environment and the natural resources that have been damaged at Hanford over the past 70 years.
In service to the river, the salmon, the groundwater for future generations, the sage-steppe habitat, the Indian nations that have used this area for thousands of years, eight agencies and tribes met together to take the first step down this path – hiring a contractor to look at the vast amounts of data that exist, figure out what more we need to know, and give us the first look at what natural resources have been damaged so we can set about restoring them. The US Dept. of Energy has the unenviable position of being at once the agency responsible for the legacy of contamination, cleaning it up, and restoring it.
So, over four days, and many days spent preparing for this workshop, we charted the future course. It was my pleasure (and hard work) to facilitate this event, which meant many hours before, during, and after the workshops each day to keep it running smoothly and efficiently, anticipate problems (we had some big ones, like lack of funding and decades of distrust), and try to think of ways to help others find their solutions.
As the week went on, I became more and more exhausted. I always found that I had the energy for the workshops, and just enough to do the prep work, but then I started sleeping for 10 hours a night and battling daily migraines. This has been a constant problem throughout my career, but at least that means I’m used to it and usually no-one can tell the difference – I’ve learned ways to cope and compensate.
Reflecting back on this event, we met all our goals and then some. I feel I did a good job, and everyone seems happy with the outcome. It was one of the longer, more difficult, and more meaningful events I have conducted in a very long time, just as I embark on a full-time career doing this kind of work.
It’s as if my physical struggles are my personal gift to the process. I know now I can do the work well. While sometimes I wonder how much better it would be if I had the energy and stamina of a “normal” person, I am who I am, and I will continue to give what I can. If it comes at the cost of a few headaches and lost days, so be it.
Impressions of the east side…
Living on the west side of the Cascades in Washington, it’s very different from the rest of the state. Here, one has the impression of rain, water, evergreens, and mountains (when you’re not in the cities and traffic, that is). East of the Cascades is farmland, sage-scrub, desert, and ranchland. So when I recently got a job conducting a mediation related to the Hanford Nuclear Reservation, I looked forward to traveling to interview all the natural resource trustee agencies and tribes, scattered around eastern Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. Even if it is August…
I spent part of my childhood summers in the area around Spokane, Cheney, and Pullman. I have memories of hot summers with the cousins, playing at the lake house (Loon Lake), flat land, fields of grass and cicadas singing at night, oiled roads shimmering in the heat. But that’s about it as far as my previous experiences in the area.
Richland was my first stop. One actually flies into Pasco in the Tri-Cities, and I was amused by certain impressions of the city and my hotel, which revealed a rather strong engineering-dominated presence. The very first building behind the “Welcome to Pasco” sign is the CH2M Hill Technology Education Center – one of Hanford’s major contractors. The hotel had conference rooms with names like “Design Room” and “Project Room.” And then there was the Federal Building in downtown Richland, which houses the Dept. of Energy among others. I wondered why they didn’t think I would need directions, but it is the only tall building in the city. And the procedures to get in for just a very short meeting are, shall we say, arcane and intrusive.
Next stop was Lewiston, Idaho, en route to the Nez Perce Reservation. The woman in the seat next to me said something about how with the heat and the Potlatch, Lewiston was sure to smell terrible. I couldn’t figure out what she meant – in my experience, a Potlatch would be a tribal gathering, some kind of ceremony or celebration, with feasting, gifts, and dancing. In Lewiston, as I was soon to discover, it is a pulp mill, squatting like a behemoth on the Clearwater River. Not exactly a giver of gifts, at least not any kind you’d want to receive. The less said about the Red Lion I stayed at there, the better. Never go there.
The Nez Perce Reservation, on the other hand, was scenic and interesting from a landscape point of view. I really wished I could have stayed and visited longer, seen more of the countryside. Alas, I had to leave as soon as our morning meeting was concluded and drive to Spokane for an afternoon meeting. This drive, about 2 hours long, surprised me, as it was nothing like my memory of Spokane or the areas around it.
This is called the Palouse area of farmland, and it is visually stunning. The hills roll in waves, and the farmland seems plowed in unpredictable undulating patterns. At this time of year, rich brown fully plowed earth contrasted with the tan of wheat stubble on some fields, and golden wheat on others, and pale green on yet others, in ever-shifting patterns as you drive through it. Beautiful. And getting near Spokane I was surprised to see the ponderosa hills I was driving through – so unlike what I remembered as a child. As I flew back to Oregon, I did see the flat land I remembered – more to the west.
Visual memories of new places, and a better understanding of how the Nez Perce and others relate to the land there – the real gifts I received on this trip.
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