by Sarah leBarron As I walk into Old School Amsterdam, I feel instantly at home. Coffee vapors float around me, pulling me towards the barista cart. I’m handed a steaming cup of vegan cappuccino, the…
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DOOR FREEK COLOMBIJN It is a truism to state that the amount of solid waste produced daily is enormous. Mount Everest has become a symbol of just how widespread the waste problem has become. Mountaineers…
Leave a CommentDoor Elbert Huijzer Toen mijn kinderen nog klein waren, werden geregeld de wat- en waarom-vragen gesteld. Papa, wat is dat? Papa, waarom is dat zo? Als ik het dan ging uitleggen realiseerde ik me vaak dat ik op de waarom-vraag maar een half antwoord had. Want waarom doen mensen de dingen zoals we ze doen?
Ik hoopte een helder antwoord te kunnen geven over goed en fout, over de logica van ons gedrag, maar dat lukte niet altijd. Vooral bij gedrag dat fout is of makkelijk verbeterd kan worden is antwoord geven lastig. En het wordt confronterend als het je eigen gedrag betreft, dat ook niet altijd logisch en doordacht is. Je ontdekt dat er altijd argumenten zijn waarom de logica van absoluut goed en fout niet gevolgd wordt. Er zit heel veel tussen.
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Confronting a room of ‘Revolutionary Communists’ and Marxists about their desire for industrialism in 1980, Russell Means took the time to explain the uncomfortable reality of extractivism in native territory:
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I wake up in a small town called Malvinas Argentinas that still maintains something of the traditional village feeling. It is situated very nearby to Córdoba, the capital of the province of the same name, in central Argentina. Edgardo, twenty-seven year old student of agro-economy, Ernesto, his father in his early fifties, and I are heading to a small farm, situated half an hour driving from Malvinas. That is where Edgardo cultivates vegetables and breeds animals for the last three years. He felt attached to nature since he was a small child. While Ernesto drives, he listens to his favourite music: local folklore.
Just when we cross the Malvinas road sign and a red line appears and the houses disappear, we observe a soybean field on the right side, and a special tractor, that the locals call mosquito, that disperses pesticides over the field. Edgardo opens the window of the car, puts his hand outside and says: “The wind blows to the north, in the direction towards Malvinas, do you feel it?” I do the same, I put my hand out the window, and I agree. The wind is strong today. The town is behind us, but a few houses are spread over the field. We keep gazing a little bit more at the landscape and we keep driving to the farm.
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