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On Being with Krista Tippett is a public radio project delving into the human side of news stories + issues. Curated + edited by senior editor Trent Gilliss.

We publish guest contributions. We edit long; we scrapbook. We do big ideas + deep meaning. We answer questions.

We've even won a couple of Webbys + a Peabody Award.

Tesfaye = “My Hope”
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor

It’s late afternoon. The SOF quadrant is deserted since most of the staff are working the Minnesota State Fair. And as I was uploading videos, I watched this inspirational story of Tesfaye, an Ethiopian man who watched the deforestation of his home, did nothing, and is reclaiming his land and his memories.

How many other efforts similar to Wangari Maathai’s Green Belt Movement are happening on the African continent that hear little about?

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YERT, Sustainability, and the Value of Beauty
Andy Dayton, Associate Web Producer

We recently had the folks from YERT visit to ask Krista a few questions about environmentalism and sustainability. YERT (an acronym for “Your Environmental Road Trip”) is an “eco-expedition to explore and personalize environmental sustainability.” Prompted by Trent and Colleen’s suggestion, I grabbed a video camera and headed up to get some footage of their interview with Krista, and asked them a few questions about their project.

You’ll see YERT’s Mark, Ben, and Erica talk about their mission, and a bit of Krista discussing what she learned from Majora Carter. You can also hear Krista’s conversation with Majora in our program "Discovering Where We Live: Reimagining Environmentalism."

I definitely took something from YERT’s visit as well: Mark seemed to be pretty excited about vermicompost (he mentioned composting with worms a few times), so I did a little research and found some plans to make my own little worm farm. I took some time over Memorial Day weekend to set up the compost bin, now I’m just missing one (rather important) ingredient — anybody know where I can find some good worms?
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Welcome to Alabama

Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer

We arrived in Greensboro on Tuesday afternoon and headed straight up to Antioch Baptist Church (see image below) to see if there was any information on services during the week. We were hoping to gather sound of the church’s congregation, perhaps speaking to members who had seen the previous incarnation. Cruising down the 1.5 lane highway at a healthy speed, we eyed this tiny sign pointing down a gravel road (driveway) “Antioch Baptist Church.” The grass between the tire tracks was quite tall, giving me the impression that this church might not get used at all. As we walked up to the structure we knew immediately that this was a Rural Studio project, it was like no other church in the area (except for the other RS chapels).

Alongside the church is an elevated graveyard with headstones dating back to the early 1800’s. The juxtaposition of these old tombs looking upon the modern chapel below was striking, as was the fact that the only windows along the long walls of the church were the narrow strip which looked directly out at the graves.

As we walked along the grounds, which were surrounded by thick forests of pines, you could hear an old hound dog howling in the distance interspersed with long stretches of eerie silence. This combination seemed to say, Welcome to rural Alabama!

We left Antioch to head back to Greensboro and again, at highway speed this dog seemed to come out of nowhere. At least, it seemed like a dog, minus one ear. This German Shepherd was standing next to the side of the road waiting for us to pass, standing alert with its one good ear. Sorry, it was just too strange for us to want to get out and snap a photo.

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Just Give It a Little Gas…Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer Amid a day full of interviews and site visits, our tour guide Dan Splaingard took us over to his former landlady’s place so he could deliver a delicious Icee fresh from the gas station.  Theresa’s two dogs, whose names I cannot recall, came running out to greet us as Dan went inside.  These dogs were very sweet and all I can say is that I am glad this car was a rental.  It was as we were leaving that we learned the “game” these dogs love to play:  Car Chase the Dogs!  We had the hardest time getting out of the driveway, these dogs were right behind us, when we drove out to the main street they ran right in front of us.  Dan said, just give it a little gas and they’ll get out of the way.  Here’s a pic of one of them, having just gotten out of the way…
Just Give It a Little Gas…Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer Amid a day full of interviews and site visits, our tour guide Dan Splaingard took us over to his former landlady’s place so he could deliver a delicious Icee fresh from the gas station.  Theresa’s two dogs, whose names I cannot recall, came running out to greet us as Dan went inside.  These dogs were very sweet and all I can say is that I am glad this car was a rental.  It was as we were leaving that we learned the “game” these dogs love to play:  Car Chase the Dogs!  We had the hardest time getting out of the driveway, these dogs were right behind us, when we drove out to the main street they ran right in front of us.  Dan said, just give it a little gas and they’ll get out of the way.  Here’s a pic of one of them, having just gotten out of the way…
Just Give It a Little Gas…Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer Amid a day full of interviews and site visits, our tour guide Dan Splaingard took us over to his former landlady’s place so he could deliver a delicious Icee fresh from the gas station.  Theresa’s two dogs, whose names I cannot recall, came running out to greet us as Dan went inside.  These dogs were very sweet and all I can say is that I am glad this car was a rental.  It was as we were leaving that we learned the “game” these dogs love to play:  Car Chase the Dogs!  We had the hardest time getting out of the driveway, these dogs were right behind us, when we drove out to the main street they ran right in front of us.  Dan said, just give it a little gas and they’ll get out of the way.  Here’s a pic of one of them, having just gotten out of the way…

Just Give It a Little Gas…
Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer

Amid a day full of interviews and site visits, our tour guide Dan Splaingard took us over to his former landlady’s place so he could deliver a delicious Icee fresh from the gas station. Theresa’s two dogs, whose names I cannot recall, came running out to greet us as Dan went inside. These dogs were very sweet and all I can say is that I am glad this car was a rental. It was as we were leaving that we learned the “game” these dogs love to play: Car Chase the Dogs! We had the hardest time getting out of the driveway, these dogs were right behind us, when we drove out to the main street they ran right in front of us. Dan said, just give it a little gas and they’ll get out of the way. Here’s a pic of one of them, having just gotten out of the way…

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Establishing Roots to the PastTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThe foundation has been laid and now the heavy lifting begins for second-year students at the Rural Studio. They completely dismantled St. Luke’s Episcopal Church (circa 1854) last year and cataloged all its elements — from mortise & tenon beams to cut nails. Then, they loaded up the truck and relocated the structure near its original location in Cahawba, the first capital of Alabama.The effort is painstaking, but history teaches lessons. And Jason Coomes, the instructor for this project, says it awakens the eyes of his young students and town citizens alike. The quality of craftsmanship and ingenuity of construction contributed to its longevity.Beams used for floor joists weren’t nailed to the foundation. Taboo nowadays perhaps, but a feature that allowed the building to move enough so that it didn’t collapse under stress and strain. Now that they’re assembling the salvaged floor, they’ll date-stamp the contemporary substitutions to provide a legacy for the next generation trying to figure out how the church was built and rebuilt.In so doing, they preserve our cultural legacy, teach the next generation of architects what it means to design buildings that last, salvage wood that most likely would have deteriorated or been scrapped, and sustain the geography of place that was once washed away by the floodplain of the Cahawba River. This seems like sensible sustainability, one that sates the curiosity of generations to come.
Establishing Roots to the PastTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThe foundation has been laid and now the heavy lifting begins for second-year students at the Rural Studio. They completely dismantled St. Luke’s Episcopal Church (circa 1854) last year and cataloged all its elements — from mortise & tenon beams to cut nails. Then, they loaded up the truck and relocated the structure near its original location in Cahawba, the first capital of Alabama.The effort is painstaking, but history teaches lessons. And Jason Coomes, the instructor for this project, says it awakens the eyes of his young students and town citizens alike. The quality of craftsmanship and ingenuity of construction contributed to its longevity.Beams used for floor joists weren’t nailed to the foundation. Taboo nowadays perhaps, but a feature that allowed the building to move enough so that it didn’t collapse under stress and strain. Now that they’re assembling the salvaged floor, they’ll date-stamp the contemporary substitutions to provide a legacy for the next generation trying to figure out how the church was built and rebuilt.In so doing, they preserve our cultural legacy, teach the next generation of architects what it means to design buildings that last, salvage wood that most likely would have deteriorated or been scrapped, and sustain the geography of place that was once washed away by the floodplain of the Cahawba River. This seems like sensible sustainability, one that sates the curiosity of generations to come.
Establishing Roots to the PastTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThe foundation has been laid and now the heavy lifting begins for second-year students at the Rural Studio. They completely dismantled St. Luke’s Episcopal Church (circa 1854) last year and cataloged all its elements — from mortise & tenon beams to cut nails. Then, they loaded up the truck and relocated the structure near its original location in Cahawba, the first capital of Alabama.The effort is painstaking, but history teaches lessons. And Jason Coomes, the instructor for this project, says it awakens the eyes of his young students and town citizens alike. The quality of craftsmanship and ingenuity of construction contributed to its longevity.Beams used for floor joists weren’t nailed to the foundation. Taboo nowadays perhaps, but a feature that allowed the building to move enough so that it didn’t collapse under stress and strain. Now that they’re assembling the salvaged floor, they’ll date-stamp the contemporary substitutions to provide a legacy for the next generation trying to figure out how the church was built and rebuilt.In so doing, they preserve our cultural legacy, teach the next generation of architects what it means to design buildings that last, salvage wood that most likely would have deteriorated or been scrapped, and sustain the geography of place that was once washed away by the floodplain of the Cahawba River. This seems like sensible sustainability, one that sates the curiosity of generations to come.

Establishing Roots to the Past
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor

The foundation has been laid and now the heavy lifting begins for second-year students at the Rural Studio. They completely dismantled St. Luke’s Episcopal Church (circa 1854) last year and cataloged all its elements — from mortise & tenon beams to cut nails. Then, they loaded up the truck and relocated the structure near its original location in Cahawba, the first capital of Alabama.

The effort is painstaking, but history teaches lessons. And Jason Coomes, the instructor for this project, says it awakens the eyes of his young students and town citizens alike. The quality of craftsmanship and ingenuity of construction contributed to its longevity.

Beams used for floor joists weren’t nailed to the foundation. Taboo nowadays perhaps, but a feature that allowed the building to move enough so that it didn’t collapse under stress and strain. Now that they’re assembling the salvaged floor, they’ll date-stamp the contemporary substitutions to provide a legacy for the next generation trying to figure out how the church was built and rebuilt.

In so doing, they preserve our cultural legacy, teach the next generation of architects what it means to design buildings that last, salvage wood that most likely would have deteriorated or been scrapped, and sustain the geography of place that was once washed away by the floodplain of the Cahawba River. This seems like sensible sustainability, one that sates the curiosity of generations to come.

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Sustainability Efforts a Ruse?

Trent Gilliss, Online Editor

David Buege, the interim director of Rural Studio while Andrew Freear is on sabbatical, questions the long-term effectiveness of green building and sustainability in general. He wonders whether LEED certification isn’t just another highly profitable add-on service that some architects exploit. Long-term, land-use planning, he says, should be at the forefront of his profession. Without that, most other efforts will fail to make an impact on generations outside of our grandchildren.

People in the field he admires? Frank and Deborah Popper of Rutgers University. They have proposed a radical plan of creating a Buffalo Commons stretching from Canada through the Dakotas right on down to Texas. This commons area would reclaim millions of acres of land and restore the prairies to their natural condition before colonial efforts seized North America. Anne Matthews chronicles their ideas in Where the Buffalo Roam: Restoring America’s Great Plains.

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Antioch Baptist ChurchTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThirty minutes north of Greensboro is a magnificent country church with a modernist flare that would appeal to most minimalists. In 2002, a century-old church standing on the site was carefully dismantled right down to the pulled nails so the materials could be reused in its current incarnation. The concrete blocks were salvaged from the women’s dorms at Auburn and serve as a retaining wall leading parishioners into the church.(photo: Mitch Hanley)
Antioch Baptist ChurchTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThirty minutes north of Greensboro is a magnificent country church with a modernist flare that would appeal to most minimalists. In 2002, a century-old church standing on the site was carefully dismantled right down to the pulled nails so the materials could be reused in its current incarnation. The concrete blocks were salvaged from the women’s dorms at Auburn and serve as a retaining wall leading parishioners into the church.(photo: Mitch Hanley)
Antioch Baptist ChurchTrent Gilliss, Online EditorThirty minutes north of Greensboro is a magnificent country church with a modernist flare that would appeal to most minimalists. In 2002, a century-old church standing on the site was carefully dismantled right down to the pulled nails so the materials could be reused in its current incarnation. The concrete blocks were salvaged from the women’s dorms at Auburn and serve as a retaining wall leading parishioners into the church.(photo: Mitch Hanley)

Antioch Baptist Church
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor

Thirty minutes north of Greensboro is a magnificent country church with a modernist flare that would appeal to most minimalists. In 2002, a century-old church standing on the site was carefully dismantled right down to the pulled nails so the materials could be reused in its current incarnation. The concrete blocks were salvaged from the women’s dorms at Auburn and serve as a retaining wall leading parishioners into the church.

(photo: Mitch Hanley)

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Consumed, and Consuming Trent Gilliss, Online EditorIrony is not a sentiment lost on us at Speaking of Faith. As we were driving from Birmingham to Greensboro, we (Mitch Hanley, the senior producer, and I) had to swallow hard and chuckle that we are symbolic of the U.S. culture, at large. As part of APM’s upcoming Consumed collaboration in November, we are producing a program on Auburn University’s Rural Studio.To collect sound and interviews and visuals, we had to travel to the design-build program’s work sites in Hale County, Alabama, from our home base in St. Paul, Minnesota. Yes, we ended up taking two jets and renting a massive SUV — a Dodge Durango — to carry our equipment and sundry people. We are reporting on sustainability and consumption issues. Oy vey.But, this scenario isn’t a one-off. The confessional part is that I drive an 8-cylinder, 4x4 Toyota Tundra that gets probably 14 mpg in town. And, I do a lot of trekking for childcare and other stuff. The fact is, I love that darned truck. I’ve even named it Black Thunder. My wife cringes and my co-workers laugh, and yes it’s playful and all. But the truth is I like ridin’ high and haulin’ brush and scrap. I’m guilty, and I’m riddled with guilt but I’m not willing to give it up.(photo: Trent Gilliss)
Consumed, and Consuming Trent Gilliss, Online EditorIrony is not a sentiment lost on us at Speaking of Faith. As we were driving from Birmingham to Greensboro, we (Mitch Hanley, the senior producer, and I) had to swallow hard and chuckle that we are symbolic of the U.S. culture, at large. As part of APM’s upcoming Consumed collaboration in November, we are producing a program on Auburn University’s Rural Studio.To collect sound and interviews and visuals, we had to travel to the design-build program’s work sites in Hale County, Alabama, from our home base in St. Paul, Minnesota. Yes, we ended up taking two jets and renting a massive SUV — a Dodge Durango — to carry our equipment and sundry people. We are reporting on sustainability and consumption issues. Oy vey.But, this scenario isn’t a one-off. The confessional part is that I drive an 8-cylinder, 4x4 Toyota Tundra that gets probably 14 mpg in town. And, I do a lot of trekking for childcare and other stuff. The fact is, I love that darned truck. I’ve even named it Black Thunder. My wife cringes and my co-workers laugh, and yes it’s playful and all. But the truth is I like ridin’ high and haulin’ brush and scrap. I’m guilty, and I’m riddled with guilt but I’m not willing to give it up.(photo: Trent Gilliss)
Consumed, and Consuming Trent Gilliss, Online EditorIrony is not a sentiment lost on us at Speaking of Faith. As we were driving from Birmingham to Greensboro, we (Mitch Hanley, the senior producer, and I) had to swallow hard and chuckle that we are symbolic of the U.S. culture, at large. As part of APM’s upcoming Consumed collaboration in November, we are producing a program on Auburn University’s Rural Studio.To collect sound and interviews and visuals, we had to travel to the design-build program’s work sites in Hale County, Alabama, from our home base in St. Paul, Minnesota. Yes, we ended up taking two jets and renting a massive SUV — a Dodge Durango — to carry our equipment and sundry people. We are reporting on sustainability and consumption issues. Oy vey.But, this scenario isn’t a one-off. The confessional part is that I drive an 8-cylinder, 4x4 Toyota Tundra that gets probably 14 mpg in town. And, I do a lot of trekking for childcare and other stuff. The fact is, I love that darned truck. I’ve even named it Black Thunder. My wife cringes and my co-workers laugh, and yes it’s playful and all. But the truth is I like ridin’ high and haulin’ brush and scrap. I’m guilty, and I’m riddled with guilt but I’m not willing to give it up.(photo: Trent Gilliss)

Consumed, and Consuming
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor

Irony is not a sentiment lost on us at Speaking of Faith. As we were driving from Birmingham to Greensboro, we (Mitch Hanley, the senior producer, and I) had to swallow hard and chuckle that we are symbolic of the U.S. culture, at large. As part of APM’s upcoming Consumed collaboration in November, we are producing a program on Auburn University’s Rural Studio.

To collect sound and interviews and visuals, we had to travel to the design-build program’s work sites in Hale County, Alabama, from our home base in St. Paul, Minnesota. Yes, we ended up taking two jets and renting a massive SUV — a Dodge Durango — to carry our equipment and sundry people. We are reporting on sustainability and consumption issues. Oy vey.

But, this scenario isn’t a one-off. The confessional part is that I drive an 8-cylinder, 4x4 Toyota Tundra that gets probably 14 mpg in town. And, I do a lot of trekking for childcare and other stuff. The fact is, I love that darned truck. I’ve even named it Black Thunder. My wife cringes and my co-workers laugh, and yes it’s playful and all. But the truth is I like ridin’ high and haulin’ brush and scrap. I’m guilty, and I’m riddled with guilt but I’m not willing to give it up.

(photo: Trent Gilliss)

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