Prairie Project

I currently live on a farm in NW Illinois and dedicate a lot of time to trying to build biodiversity, particularly by fostering habitat for invertebrates. At the center of this effort is an 8-acre prairie installation begun in 2020. This page documents some of our progress.

Background: pandemic chaos

in Spring 2020, I was one of the many professional moms for whom pandemic parenting destroyed the ability to do normal work. Global crises have a way of mucking things up. The thing is, climate change and mass extinction are going to muck things up a lot more than the coronavirus pandemic already has. And despite the overwhelming evidence that climate change is THE BIGGEST GLOBAL CRISIS IN HUMAN HISTORY, by Spring 2020 I had gotten frustrated by the inaction of educational institutions like my own, which MUST act substantively to reduce greenhouse gas production and to educate proactively for a future that differs substantially from the present. Given all this, Summer 2020 seemed like a good time to reorient. I wondered if hands-on conservation and cooperative labor arrangements could offer a meaningful way to merge work, childcare, education, and positive change. Pulling retirement funds out of the (icky, carbon-based) financial markets, we bought a 19-acre farm and homestead in NW Illinois, where we moved with two other families (initially) in a quarantine pod.

We chose this specific farm property largely because it had potential for immediate and important environmental restoration: it is adjacent to state-owned forest and it has an 8-acre field previously used for corn and soy production, ripe for conversion to prairie and savanna. Our field drains directly into a creek that supports bald eagles and other endangered species. Regionally, agricultural pesticides have severely suppressed pollinator populations. Our installation of prairie on the former crop field will provide supportive habitat to bees, butterflies, birds, and other animals, and will also help to protect water quality downstream. A mature prairie also sequesters carbon much more effectively than cropland. Supplementing our prairie project with upgrades in our homestead utilities and permaculture-style food production (mainly on the part of the property that was formerly lawn), we hope that our land management practices will translate to a substantially lower net carbon footprint for our family and the friends who stay with us.

Picture: view of the field from the South, in June of 2020 at the beginning of the soy growing season.

Summer 2020

When we bought the property, the 8-acre field had been rented out to a farmer who had planted standard GMO soy beans. Because we have kids living on the property, the farmer kindly agreed to use minimal (but not zero) glyphosate treatment in the 2020 growing season. (As I'll explain later, this ended up being a mixed blessing, although it was well-intentioned.) Anyway, we couldn't do anything with the field ourselves until after the final harvest in October 2020. What we did during that time was reach out to local conservation organizations to learn as much as we could, as quickly as possible, about the pre-colonial ecosystem in this region and the steps that it will take to work towards restoration.

We had extremely helpful site visits from representatives of the Jo Daviess County Conservation Foundation (JDCF), and The Prairie Enthusiasts (TPE). In particular, the landowner services program with TPE gave us a powerful jump-start. After a socially-distanced site walkthrough during which he exhibited exhaustive knowledge of the botany of the region, Dr. Dan Carter of TPE gave us a customized write-up describing conservation priorities we could act upon immediately. He also gave us direct practical advice about how to do a prairie installation, and suggestions of additional resources. With additional tips from members of the local Northwestern Illinois Prairie Enthusiasts (NIPE), we placed seed orders from Prairie Moon, and bought organic rice hulls as a seed-mix filler. We picked a variety of seed mixtures partly based on the site conditions, partly based on our priority for fostering insect conservation, and partly constrained (of course) by our budget. Quality seeds are expensive! We also got a cheap broadcast spreader to attach to the back of our old gator, since 8 acres is a bit much to try to seed by hand (although it didn't work all that well, so quite a bit of hand-seeding actually happened in the end).

Picture: View of the field from the North, through some of the lawn decor we inherited from the past owners. The field is filled with soybeans.

Fall 2020

In October 2020, the field was harvested for the last time, and then mowed by tractor. At that time, we finally had a chance to see what the conditions were going to be for our planting, and, honestly, the situation looked pretty bleak. Partly because of the lower-than-usual use of glyphosate on the field, most parts were completely covered in weedy debris. While a thicket of mulch/debris is not always terrible -- it can help prevent water run-off and protect new seedlings -- it wasn't a good situation for our initial seeding. We worried both that the debris would limit soil contact for our seeds and that the weed seed burden would be out of control. We decided to try burning off as much of the debris on the field as we could, which also would serve as our first bit of hands-on training for doing future controlled burns of the prairie, which will be an essential part of our routine in future years.

Picture: view of the field during its final harvest.

The burning took a long time and we made many rookie mistakes (thankfully, none of them with serious consequences), but we learned a ton from the challenge. The fuel density on the field was too low to sustain fire unless the weather conditions were particularly dry and windy, but in those conditions, it was nerve-wracking keeping the burn areas under control. In the wettest parts of the field we could only maintain the fire when we raked the debris into deliberate rows and piles, which was exhausting. We also put many hours of effort into hand-raking and pre-burning fire breaks, criss-crossing the field with future paths that we will mow and maintain in anticipation of future burns. Also, meanwhile, following the expert advice we had received, we began clearing the edge of the forest around the field, cutting out weedy invasive brush and removing low-value trees that were competing with our existing oak trees. Overall, the Fall was a time of intense physical labor, but also a time when a pair of bald eagles moved in to the canyon behind our property. Their noisy oversight of our progress was both entertaining and energizing. During a time when it felt like the whole world was falling apart, it helped our family and our friends to interact with these amazing birds, whose winter food source (fish in the neighboring canyon) our work will directly protect.

Picture: standing in the middle of the field during the burning of a strip later to be used as a fire break.

Picture: seeds mixed with rice-hulls, ready to be spread over the field.

Picture: the day after we finished seeding. Snow!

Plan going forward (as of Winter 2021)

Our property bears the mark of destructive land use practices since the dawn of the colonial era. Our former crop field testifies to this, with its problematic drainage, poor soil, chemical contamination, and lack of biodiversity... but the field is also surrounded by non-native pine-forest areas (planted perhaps 40 years ago), and a lawn lined with maples, ornamental trees, and ornamental garden plants that are in some cases creeping into the surrounding landscape. Between those intentional changes and the unintentional spread of invasive species such as bush honeysuckle, garlic mustard, and white mulberry, there is an enormous amount of competition for the native plant species we want to support. Our long-term project will focus on prairie establishment, but also will involve clearing the forested areas of brushy invasive plants and weedy trees. Throughout the prairie we will be planting (and, hopefully, protecting from deer) burr oak saplings. With effort and time and luck, this will let the property gradually transition to a version of the oak savanna ecosystem that would have predated major logging and agricultural development in this location. We are encouraged by existing signs of the ecological potential of this land: the few parts of our property that were never developed (mainly, the very steep slopes into the canyon) already support strikingly diverse botanical communities. Hopefully in the future, the whole 19 acres of our property will support that kind of biodiversity. Check back and I'll post updates! Or check in here

CLIMATE CHANGE IS WHAT MATTERS. Here is what I am personally doing about it

If you're somebody who is reading my webpage, you probably know: it is well past time for a complete rethink of normal. We need to actively prepare for, and mitigate (as much as we still can), the catastrophic climate change and mass extinctions resulting from our fossil-fuel-based economy. You and I need to take steps NOW towards that new normal. It is more important than anything else.

I am passionate about physics, music, teaching, philosophy, and many other things. I worked hard for a career and lifestyle that I genuinely loved, but honestly, I just can't take the world's inaction on climate change any longer...personal lifestyle choices and individual actions are not the solution but they are the only thing I can totally control. So here is a running list of things I've done (with my family) in recent years to define a new normal, upending our old normal. What are you doing?

The changes that matter most

Every action towards sustainability matters, but some actions matter more than others. I would argue these are the most important of my family's actions:

• Voting, every single time there is the opportunity, with climate change as the top issue. (There are huge links between environmental justice and social justice, so the two aims are in alignment almost all the time.)
• Vocally addressing climate change with friends, family, neighbors, students, governmental representatives, people we work with, companies we purchase from, schools and camps/classes our kid attends, random strangers, and, uh, you, whoever you are.
• Making major upgrades to our house(s) (see below) to improve efficiency and reduce dependence on fossil fuels, including insulation/windows/appliances/HVAC/water-heating upgrades, as well as solar panels.
• Avoiding air travel.
• Maintaining a plant-based diet with a concerted effort to avoid food waste.
• Dedicating our financial and labor resources to hands-on habitat creation and environmental restoration on a 19-acre farm in NW Illinois.
• Routinely self-assessing our carbon footprint, at a level of detail beyond an online calculator, so that we know what will matter and what won't.

House changes

My family now owns multiple homes, since we kept our Chicago two-flat when we bought a farm in 2020. This is extravagant and would seem to be in opposition to a low-carbon lifestyle. Strategically, though, we think we can use property resources as a tool for positive change. Here's how.

• Chicago house: renting out the downstairs to a community organization and ensuring that the upstairs apartment is occupied, even if we're not there, so that the high-efficiency systems of our house have a net-positive impact on the carbon footprints for others in our community, not just us.
• Chicago house: upgraded thermal envelope to reduce heating/air-conditioning requirements, through a replaced/reinsulated roof, new windows.
• Chicago house: replaced all appliances with high-efficiency versions.
• Chicago house: upgraded boiler (heat and water-heating) to an ultra-high-efficiency model.
• Chicago house: installed rooftop solar panels that cover all electricity use, including AC in the summer. This also led to a legal issue that we are continuing to pursue to promote home-based solar.
• Chicago house: replaced old garage/lawn with a native plant garden/rain garden with raised vegetable beds.
• Chicago house: improved exterior drainage to address climate-change-induced rainwater/flooding issues.
• Chicago house: built a rat-proof (bomb-proof!) compost bin, implemented consistent composting/recycling.
• Farm: shared living space with other families - increased density=increased efficiency.
• Farm: replaced existing HVAC systems with efficient models.
• Farm: upgraded major appliances to efficient models.
• Farm: set up a partial "greywater" system.
• Farm: begun systematically "delawnifying" the 1+ acre area that was previously mowed.
• Farm: begun work towards an off-grid solar panel+battery system which, combined with wood burning, should enable a largely self-sufficient and fossil-fuel free home.
• Farm future: buildings on the farm need insulation and window upgrades to be less wasteful.

Transportation changes

Pandemic-living is great for avoiding travel! Let's keep that up, shall we?

• Chicago living: use bikes instead of cars for most errands, consolidate shopping trips to once a week, commute via public transit.
• Farm living: there's almost no reason to ever go anywhere. Yay!
• Car: picked a high-efficiency diesel model (we can't yet afford an electric car, but in the long run...).
• Air travel: No more air travel unless it is critical for a job or some emergency reason. In particular, I am giving up academic conferences/events that require air travel. Also, no recreational travel by air. Travel is great, but not at the expense of the planet.
• Future plans: especially if we end up traveling back and forth between city/country, the only way we will make that sustainable is an electric car charged by our solar grids. But maybe we just won't do that...hard to say.

Food changes

Food is a type of consumption nobody can avoid... but it is also one of the places we can be most creative at defining a "new normal."

• Diet: maintain an almost 100% vegetarian diet in our household, even though only some household members identify as vegetarian (this choice matters because meat has a disproportionately huge carbon footprint).
• Avoiding/managing food waste: planning meals to minimize waste. Freezing/using leftovers. Using food scraps for soup stock and to make vinegar for cleaning. Feeding other food scraps to our chickens. Composting anything that remains.
• Growing food: raising free-range chickens for (comparatively) ethical eggs, growing a fruit/vegetable garden (in the city) and mini-veggie-farm (at the farm).
• Eating an almost 100% organic diet.
• Avoiding packaging: purchasing most staple foods (e.g. dried beans and grains) in large bulk quantities that minimize total packaging. Cooking from whole foods. Avoiding processed foods. Avoiding carryout/delivery food, including bringing lunches/beverages with us rather than purchasing from restaurants/convenience stores.
• Buying local foods: in Chicago, farmer's markets+local co-op. At the farm, relying on a local cooperative "virtual farmer's market" for seasonally-available foods. Sourcing cheeses/dairy in bulk from local suppliers, sourcing flour/grains in bulk from Illinois supplier.

Lifestyle changes

You don't have to be a grubby hippie to be environmentally conscious, but it sure is one of the easiest ways!

• Shower less: both my partner and I have worked at the South Pole Station, where showers are limited to two, two-minute showers a week. We don't quite achieve that standard in everyday life, but we're not too far off from it.
• Wash and replace clothing less often: how horrible is life with grubby clothing that has holes/stains? Not horrible at all.
• Pee in the yard, and otherwise make an effort to flush less, for times when it isn't practical to run outside to pee. Yes, we do this. In addition to saving the precious resource of fresh water drawn (via electricity) from our farm well, we have noticed that strategic yard-peeing helps deter critters who would otherwise raid our veggie garden.
• Monitor and optimize everyday energy usage: we use tools to measure the electricity use of every appliance/light/device, and we adjust usage (e.g. by replacing lightbulbs) wherever we can. We plan and double-up on baking projects. We use cold-water wash cycles exclusively for laundry. We use fans instead of AC in the summer, and wear sweaters instead of turning up the heat in the winter. We obsessively turn off lights. We obsessively turn off and unplug unused appliances.
• Choose banks and investments, where possible, that are minimally entangled with the carbon-based economy. [Ideally we'd engage in shareholder activism but haven't been great about that yet]
• Make routine donations to organizations working on environmental causes.
• Stay educated on the evolving science around climate change and environment.
• Research the products we use and act on what we find out: Look into the eco impact and eco policies of the companies and products that are part of our lives. Use simple eco-friendly cleaning methods. Make carbon footprint estimations before making purchases. Contact companies to request changes in how they do business or the types of products they provide.
• Stay politically engaged: vote regularly, and write letters to representatives emphasizing environmental concerns.
• Activism and volunteering: join major marches and activism campaigns when possible. (Honestly this isn't my strong suit...as an extreme introvert... but it does matter!) Do environment-focused volunteering with kids/schools.
• Being annoying: I'm that person who eco-shames others, brings up the impending apocalypse at kids' birthday parties, and walks around the office turning off all the lights without asking first. I don't care if it makes you hate me.

Consumption changes

This is a hard one. It's hard to not have or need "stuff," especially with a kid, and with lots of personal passions (uh, like music). Still working on it. Some successful changes in recent years have included:

• Totally cutting out the idea of "shopping for fun." I can't believe that was ever a concept in my life, but at one point many years ago it was. Taking part in systemic environmental destruction should not feel fun.
• Alternating 1-year moratorium on buying any new clothes/shoes. I've now done this a few times and it's been easy and has gotten me used to having an extremely simple wardrobe.
• Living with old/ugly things, or rebuilding/fixing/modifying things we have instead of buying new things.
• Reducing media consumption: virtually no TV, minimal social media use for us and for our kid. This has a huge benefit: limiting our exposure to the influence of advertising.
• Prioritizing experiences, donations, and homemade items when giving gifts.
• Up-cycling materials into new uses, e.g. by making blankets out of old sweaters, using yogurt containers as planters, etc.

Work and Labor changes

What counts as my work these days? What should count? I'm not sure what will happen in the future with my job, as I'm on a pandemic-triggered leave of absence through at least the 21-22 school year. Instead of the academic/teaching "work" that I used to get paid for, I'm spending a lot more of my time right now doing on-the-ground environmental "work" that is technically unpaid. (but, what's the relative payoff, in the long run??)

• As a professor: Shifted my teaching to emphasize climate change.
• As a professor: Taken part in conferences, hiring campaigns, committees, curriculum development, campus events, and collaborative teaching with a climate and environment focus.
• As a professor: Studied the carbon footprint of the school with students, and shared our findings.
• As an academic: Pulled out of a book contract on the grounds that publishing companies need to change to include carbon accountability in their production model.
• As an employee: requested sustainable options for things like paper/supplies/catering/retirement options/employee service award gifts, etc.
• As a parent/educator for my child and friends: centered play and daily activities around nature and environmental restoration.
• Direct conservation work: working on converting an 8-acre former crop field to a prairie, for carbon sequestration, protection of the local watershed, and invertebrate conservation.
• Direct conservation work: removing invasive species and weedy brush and trees from ~9 acres of forest area on our property.

Billion Bug Project

The original "Billion Bug Project" was a personal project that I started in Spring 2019, challenging myself to create enough urban insect habitat in Chicago to support one billion new invertebrate lives that would not have existed otherwise. (I use the word "bug" here in the colloquial sense that includes bees, butterflies, spiders, beetles, worms... all the little garden critters, not all of which are actually technically "bugs"). In addition to my own small urban yard, I gardened in my friends' yards, in random neglected spaces, and in community gardens. I primarily used plants and seeds that I cultivated myself in our home garden in Chicago, which hosts 70+ native plant species.

In Summer 2020 my family relocated (permanently?? not sure??) to a farm, which meant unfortunately abandoning some of urban gardens (honestly, abandoned gardens are not so bad for bugs)... but, instead of keeping up with those gardens I am installing a full-blown prairie on an 8-acre field. A target of one-billion new invertebrate lives was ambitious for urban gardening, but it is realistic to think that a multi-acre prairie will lead to billions and billions of invertebrate lives over the next few years. Which is wonderful in its mind-bogglingness. Still, acreage is not necessary to fight back against the staggering invertebrate declines that have been caused, in part, by our changing climate. Urban gardening is a critical conservation context for invertebrates. There is research to support this claim but I will make an appeal to my own direct observation: In midsummer, I can count more species of pollinator in five minutes in the middle of my Chicago yard than I have ever counted in five minutes of standing in a rural prairie preserve. Our urban yard audibly buzzes with native bees all summer, and the air flutters constantly with butterflies. In contrast, rural areas in the Midwest are so systematically sprayed by agricultural pesticides that pollinator populations often struggle, even when they have access to habitat. Prairie installations like the one we are doing are important, but urban gardens are, oddly, an island of protection for many insect species. Even a few square feet of garden can explode with biodiversity in a single growing season. All you have to do is cultivate healthy soil and install native plants.

Why focus on invertebrates? Well, honestly, everyone should focus on every aspect of the climate change and mass extinction crisis that we possibly can. Invertebrate conservation is one of my personal passions because I like the physical labor of gardening and find insects and other invertebrates to be weird and captivating. Climate change and mass extinction are such huge, global threats that it's easy to feel paralyzed, like there is no way of doing anything about it. I also get sucked into difficult philosophical and ethical loops (I mean, I have a background in cosmology, which tends to change how you view things like the end of the world). Invertebrate conservation is that rare example of an environmental task that undermines fatalism and resists overthinking. Plant things. Biodiversity explodes. Repeat. It clearly and immediately matters.

If you are in the Chicago region and interested in doing some native plant gardening, reach out to me and I'll give you some tips! (First tip: be careful of buying plants from local Chicago nurseries, as many of the plants labeled "native" are cultivars that are less beneficial to insects than true-to-type natives.) Likely if you get in touch, I'll try to convince you to take a bunch of plants or seeds from me for free. Bugs rule. They need our help. We need theirs, too.

Picture: a happy bee on a Kankakee Mallow blossom in our urban yard.