Work encompassed archiving, identifying sites and shifting mindsets
When did you last watch a movie set in a future where the world was doing just fine? Widespread peace, climate change in check, plenty of everything for everyone.
One reason for the lack of happy future narratives is that they’d probably be boring. Another is that they’re hard to envision, what with today's wars and wild climate and lack of things for a lot of people.
But a group of 2024 Bachelor of Technology in Management grads believes that a better future is possible, and that we can make it real.
In March, Dallis Franke (Medical Radiologic Technology ’13), Lexie Frolek (Personal Fitness Trainer ’19) and Bre Martin (Personal Fitness Trainer ’20) completed their part in the “Long Trees” project, sponsored by Dustin Bajer, an educator and community builder focused on improving the relationship between cities and nature.
The idea: plant 1,000 trees in Edmonton that each will live at least 1,000 years, with successive generations as their stewards. It’s in sharp contrast to any pop-culture pessimism; not only does Long Trees presume that humans will exist in 1,000 years, but it sees us as capable of very long-term, unselfish thinking. That is, it’s underpinned by hope.
But hope is better when it has a plan – or is adopted by students who can make one.
What makes NAIT's Bachelor of Technology in Management unique in Alberta?
Data, space and community
Long Trees is highly idealistic, which had the students wondering where to start.
“Dustin dreams big,” says Franke. “His mind is going so fast. He gave us this idea and we didn’t know what to do with it. We just kind of went from there.”
Bajer’s idea was inspired by the Long Now Foundation, a U.S.-based nonprofit dedicated to supporting projects that span centuries and spur deep thinking about big concepts.
“The trees themselves are a tool to have a broader conversation about our responsibility to the past and to the future,” says Bajer.
“We have a dystopian cultural narrative at the moment where … [people] say we won't be here in 1,000 years. The project is designed to say, ‘Well, we could be. And not only could we be here in 1,000 years, the future could actually be amazing. It could be filled with possibility.
“And you can literally build a better future now,” he adds.
That requires a timeless approach to logistics, so to speak.
After looking at the mechanics of other long projects around the world, the students reached out to local archivists to learn about data management options. Information about tree location, lineage and so on would need to be preserved and accessible. They recommended keeping everything in multiple copies and places, and in paper and regularly updated digital formats. They also advised using simple words less likely to be lost or changed by the inevitable evolution of language.
Space and care were other concerns. To start the project, Bajer chose bristlecone pine and ginkgo, both of which can live well over 1,000 years – requiring “forever” homes where they wouldn't be disturbed by development.
"You can literally build a better future now.”
“So we thought about community leagues,” says Frolek.
There are more than 160 community leagues in neighbourhoods throughout Edmonton. They’re funded by the city but operate independently on reserved parkland – perfect for protecting a tree. Also, league members tend to be keen community builders.
When Edmonton Federation of Community Leagues climate resilience adviser Erin Olefeldt reached out to members on behalf of the students, she was heartened to see about 10 leagues respond immediately. She expects more will follow.
“It's nice to involve the community,” says Olefeldt. “It's almost creating a celebration around planting these trees. The climate crisis can be really depressing. But the actions we take to counter it can be really uplifting.”
What’s more, communal enthusiasm can help build the momentum required for a 1,000-year initiative. “The more people that find out about this, the more people who are interested and the more likely those trees are to survive,” says Frolek.
“A message of hope for humanity”
The first Long Trees were planted at NAIT’s Main Campus in May. If the plan works, they’ll either still be there in 3024 or someone will know enough to move them if necessary.
Since we have no idea what 3024 holds, the success of Long Trees has to be measured by the fact that it’s actually underway.
“It's a weird philosophical project,” says Bajer. “We're in a situation where we don't need to figure out all the answers. We don’t need to rush to plant 1,000 trees in 2024.” He’s content to use the students’ plan as the seed from which Long Trees will grow and adapt, and as a framework for being a “good ancestor.”
Another way to evaluate Long Trees is to look not just at its early impact on the urban landscape but at the impact on those who inhabit it. Franke, for one, feels changed by the work.
While Franke entered the project as not “environmentally conscious,” it inspired her to think beyond simply satisfying the day-to-day demands of school, career and parenting. “To change my mindset to care and to consider where my grandkids are in the world, it was a lot to take in.
“The trees are basically a message of hope for humanity,” she adds.
Frolek agrees. “It was super eye-opening.” For her, Long Trees was about modelling how sustainability can be managed over timeframes human beings aren’t built for. “It was cool to put it into [practice] and talk about it with my family as well.”
And, ultimately, even if symbolically, it showed humanity’s capacity to recognize the need for change for future generations, and to find innovative ways to act now for their sake, and quickly.
“Look at what we’ve accomplished in this timeframe,” says Frolek. “There’s so much more that could be accomplished by multiple people.”
Stories and trees
Research for the Long Trees project included consultation with members of the Indigenous community. Dwayne Donald, a descendant of the Beaver Hills Cree and a Canada Research Chair and professor at the University of Alberta, advised making the trees personally meaningful, such as through ceremonies around plantings.
“If people are connected to something, they are more likely to see it as a part of themselves and thus protect it,” the students wrote in their project report.
Derek Thunder, then-manager of the Nîsôhkamâtotân Centre, a NAIT community gathering space for Indigenous and non-Indigenous students, pointed out the potential for knowledge transfer through storytelling. On campus, for example, that work will be done partly by a plaque donated by the NAIT Students’ Association that will explain the significance of the trees to generations of students, staff and visitors.