/tags/publishers-note/ Recent content in publisher's note on Rootstalk Hugo -- gohugo.io en-us Thu, 06 Aug 2020 15:59:41 +0000 /past-issues/volume-v-issue-1/publishers-note-volv-issue1/ Thu, 06 Aug 2020 15:59:41 +0000 /past-issues/volume-v-issue-1/publishers-note-volv-issue1/ Some words—bank, government, weather, gun—give off a decidedly ambivalent vibe. It all depends. Others are more clearly negative—pollution, debt, cult—or positive—love, warmth, faith. For me, the word community is in the “positive” category. I would rather not get into the definition game; books have been written about it. Maybe we can get away with saying, “you know community when you see it.” In any event, for most people, most of the time, community conjures thoughts and feelings that are good, supportive, comfortable. /past-issues/volume-iii-issue-1/publisher/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-iii-issue-1/publisher/ Where is the Prairie? We call Rootstalk “a Prairie Journal of Culture, Science, and the Arts.” A few words, then, about the word prairie. We think of prairie as the ecosystem that dominated North America’s central portion, roughly from Illinois to the Rocky Mountains and from southern Canada to Texas. It comprised thousands of species of plants, animals, and microorganisms in soil, water, and air, all shimmering in a web of life. /past-issues/volume-vi-issue-1/andelson/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-vi-issue-1/andelson/ In response to the pandemic the Iowa Board of Health, like those in the surrounding states, placed the entire state under quarantine. Public gathering places closed, including schools, theaters, and churches. Face masks became part of being dressed appropriately when interacting with others in public spaces, although some, including public officials, resisted wearing them. Businesses slowed down or shuttered. People self-consciously stopped shaking hands. Doctors and nurses felt overwhelmed and often unequipped to deal with the crisis. /past-issues/volume-vii-issue-2/andelson/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-vii-issue-2/andelson/ In the spirit of hopefulness that spring betokens, this spring especially, I thought I would take a break from the weighty topics I have addressed in my last few Publisher’s Notes—the pandemic, the derecho, climate disruption, the death of a prairie hero—and write about why I carve spoons. To be sure, spoon carving is a quirky, some might say anachronistic, pastime, but for me serious ideas lurk beneath its surface about our ties to the natural world, the relationship between practicality and artistry, the meaning of knowledge, and the threat posed to craftsmanship by industrial capitalism. /past-issues/volume-iii-issue-2/publisher/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-iii-issue-2/publisher/ Welcome to the Spring 2017 issue of Rootstalk: A Prairie Journal of Culture, Science, and the Arts, published by Grinnell College’s Center for Prairie Studies. This issue, like all of our spring issues to date, was produced through the joint efforts of students in a class—Humanities/Social Studies 295: Journal Publishing—co-taught by Mark Baechtel and myself. Our students in the class acted as an editorial board, soliciting and generating content, and editing the content once it came in. /past-issues/volume-v-issue-2/publisher/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-v-issue-2/publisher/ A few years ago, I wrote a little essay called “Changing Heroes” that appeared in The Land Report, the bulletin of The Land Institute. In it, I argued that the Western world has a propensity for choosing the wrong heroes, and the wrong kinds of heroes. Hercules is our archetypical hero. His life, even in infancy, was a playbook of superhuman deeds. He performed astonishing feats—the “twelve labors of Hercules”—showing all the while physical strength, undaunted courage, unimaginable endurance, and the ability to overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges. /past-issues/volume-iv-issue-1/publisher/ Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000 /past-issues/volume-iv-issue-1/publisher/ In the last ten months I have devoted countless hours of my time to a tiny piece of real estate on the southeast edge of the Grinnell College campus. There was not much there ten months ago: a few crab apple trees on the south side, a few pines on the north side, a large walnut tree on the west side, and a forlorn looking lawn in the middle, about six-tenths of an acre.