WASHINGTON POST: Will America’s ‘Least Sustainable City’ Vote to Kill Rail Transit?

PHOENIX — It’s 110 degrees, there’s a pollution advisory in effect, and the cloudless sky provides no relief from the brutal sun. Even in the scorching heat, the platforms of the city’s light-rail system are packed with rush-hour commuters on this August afternoon.

“I find driving very unenjoyable. This saves money as well,” said Mike Stein, who uses Valley Metro Rail to commute to his job at one of central Phoenix’s many medical offices every weekday.

Even on days like this one, Stein prefers transit to driving. He’s one of the tens of thousands of Phoenix-area residents who have begun commuting by light rail since the system opened in 2008.

Most major U.S. cities view transit as key to serving their growing populations, reducing congestion and improving air quality by taking vehicles off the road. In the Washington region, where the Metro subway system is expanding into the outer suburbs and the light-rail Purple Line is under construction in suburban Maryland, officials are looking for ways to expand transit options for the same reasons.

But the future of rail transit in Phoenix is in jeopardy, as voters head to the polls Tuesday for a special election to decide whether to allow the city to spend any more money on rail development or instead invest more in auto infrastructure.

Cars and a light rail train pass along Central Avenue in Phoenix, Ariz. during rush hour.

The issue is a crucial one. Phoenix, one of the hottest places in the country, also is one of the fastest-warming, and its fast-growing population, urban sprawl and scarcity of water have earned the desert metropolis a reputation as “America’s least sustainable city.”

Rail supporters say passage of the ballot measure could be economically and environmentally devastating.

“If Phoenix were to stop rail transit investments, it would be going back in time to an old auto-only mode that most cities in the U.S. — and the world — are moving away from,” said Marlon Boarnet, chair of the urban planning and spatial analysis department at the University of Southern California.

Phoenix is the country’s fifth-largest city, but it hasn’t been a major population center for long. The bulk of the region’s growth began after World War II, with the city’s population more than quadrupling between 1950 and 1960. Boarnet said urban development trends in that era strongly favored car travel.

“We were really building many cities, particularly outside of the Northeast, as — for lack of a better phrase — automobile-only,” Boarnet said. There was “very little transit, bus systems were an afterthought, nonmotorized mobility — walking, bicycling — the infrastructure often didn’t even exist.”

Phoenix, like other Western cities developing in the latter half of the 20th century, was designed for highways and sprawl. Transportation trends nationwide began to shift in the 1990s, Boarnet said. Many cities, including Los Angeles, Denver and Seattle, began to retrofit car-oriented infrastructure to include more transit options.

Phoenix followed suit, breaking ground on its original $1.4 billion, 20-mile light-rail system in 2005. Today, the 38-station system runs 28 miles, connecting the city’s downtown business core with the suburbs of Tempe and Mesa, stopping at Sky Harbor International Airport and Arizona State University along the way.

Weekday ridership is around 50,000, a number opponents point out is only about 1 percent of the metro-area population. The light-rail system, the 14th busiest in the country, has been expanded three times since it opened and was built using three voter-approved sales tax increases between 2000 and 2015, in addition to federal funds.

But as projected costs have increased, so has criticism. Since 2015, the budget for planned expansions has more than doubled to $1.35 billion. Construction costs have increased, plans have grown to include a new downtown transit hub, and a federally required contingency budget was added. Opponents say taxpayer money is being wasted, while rail advocates say federal grants will make up much of the difference and the contingency money may never be spent.

Such scrutiny was enough to convince the Phoenix City Council in March to shelve an expansion planned for the western part of the city and reallocate more than $150 million to street repairs.

The next planned phase of development, set to break ground this year, would extend the system five miles into the southern part of the city. But that, too, has sparked criticism, with a group of South Phoenix residents and business owners leading the opposition. In addition to the potential impact on businesses, the proposal has raised concerns about gentrification in South Phoenix, a lower-income part of the city with a large Latino and African American population.

“All these small businesses have been here for decades and you’ll get wiped out and be displaced,” said Susan Gudino, of Building a Better Phoenix, the group leading the fight to end rail funding.

Gudino said the city’s promises for assistance don’t convince her that small businesses in her community would survive the planned four-year construction period for the next phase. She also worries about the changes to traffic flow that would be caused by converting roadway to tracks.

“All the small businesses depend on the car traffic going by,” she said.

The complaints and concerns are similar to those heard during early discussions about Maryland’s Purple Line, now under construction. The 16-mile project is being built through a $5.6-billion public-private partnership,one of the largest of its kind underway in the country.

Skepticism over the South Phoenix extension swelled into the Proposition 105 ballot measure, which would halt not only the South Phoenix line, but any future rail development in the city. If passed, the city would turn away billions in federal transit grants and redirect previously approved sales tax funding to road improvements. In a car-centric city where many roads are in disrepair, those funds could have a more immediate effect, rail opponents say.

Such organized opposition has killed transit projects elsewhere. Donors to Building a Better Phoenix include the Arizona Free Enterprise Club, a group with ties to Americans for Prosperity, an influential political advocacy organization funded by oil industry billionaires Charles and David Koch. David Koch died Friday. Americans for Prosperity has campaigned against transit in Arkansas and Utah, and in 2018 the group led a successful door-knocking campaign to defeat a light-rail project on the ballot in Nashville.

“We’ve tried to watch and learn from Nashville,” said Phoenix Mayor Kate Gallego (D), who opposes the ballot measure. “I’ve tried to do town halls and community meetings in every corner of the city so people can understand why [light rail] matters.”

Gallego attributes the revitalization of the city’s downtown to the light-rail system and notes that Phoenix is the largest city in the country not connected by Amtrak. To compete economically, Phoenix needs more rail development, she said.

“It’s also a value statement. Do we want to make sure that people in our community have access to good schools, good jobs, medical care? Do we want to make sure that people have chances at affordable housing where a lower percentage of their budget can go to transportation so they don’t need a car? Great urban cities have options,” Gallego said.

Easing traffic is an immediate goal, but the mayor also is concerned about the city’s pollution and climate in the long-term. The American Lung Association ranks Phoenix among the worst places for ozone pollution in the United States, and Climate Central projects Phoenix will have 147 days a year with a heat index above 105 degrees by 2050. Those public health concerns could bring major economic losses for the city.

Rail transit could help, Boarnet said. He co-wrote a 2012 study of households near a newly opened Los Angeles light-rail line and found, on average, access to the train led families to reduce driving by 10 miles per day, or about 40 percent. Multiply those numbers by the thousands of people living near the rail lines and the effect on traffic, smog and carbon emissions is measurable, Boarnet said.

“In a place like Phoenix, these same factors would work. We don’t have any reason not to believe that,” he said.

Boarnet cautioned that light rail alone will not solve climate and pollution problems. A city needs multiple transit options, as well as land-use policies that encourage denser housing near transit to be fully effective, he said. Although the nationwide trend is toward more public transit, in many cities, ridership is declining.

“I do not interpret this as ‘people don’t like the bus and never will,’ ” Boarnet said. He views the trend as an indication that cities still have work to do to provide the most effective transit systems.

The challenge is getting big-picture goals to resonate with voters. Boarnet said transit-related votes can be difficult because they ask voters to imagine results that might be decades away.

“This is literally a play for what should Phoenix look like about 20 to 30 years from now,” he said.

It’s a future he can see clearly though. Rail transit has the capacity to move tens of thousands of people per hour, while freeways might move only a small fraction of that. The Phoenix area is growing by more than 200 people per day. Sooner or later, the city will simply run out of space to efficiently move everyone by car, Boarnet said.

“Phoenix voters may not feel like they’re there yet,” he said. “The difficulty is, if they don’t do anything else, they’re going to get there eventually.”

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(Un)Affordable Podcast

Arizona has a reputation for being an affordable place to live. But that’s not the case anymore. Rent prices in the Phoenix area are rising about twice as fast as the national average. And with around 200 people moving to Maricopa County every day, demand for housing keeps rising. In this podcast we explore the obstacles that are making the cost of housing in Phoenix harder and harder for many residents to afford.

Katherine Davis-Young reported, wrote, produced and hosts (Un)Affordable for Hear Arizona/ KJZZ.

Listen to the complete series on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR One, or wherever you get your podcasts

WASHINGTON POST: For many Native Americans, embracing LGBT members is a return to the past

The sound of drums, singing and prayers marked the opening of a powwow in Phoenix on a Saturday afternoon this month. Marchers carried the flags of the United States and some of Arizona’s tribal nations onto the grass field, but the procession also included rainbow flags, and the pink and blue transgender flag. It was Arizona’s first Two-Spirit Powwow, one of a handful of powwows that have sprung up across North America to celebrate LGBT Native Americans.

Among the marchers in the grand entry was Kay Kisto, the reigning Miss Indian Transgender Arizona. “To actually be here, to be at the first-ever [Two-Spirit Powwow] in Arizona — I’ve been having goose bumps ever since I got here,” Kisto said.

Kisto, 35, grew up on the Gila River Indian Reservation, south of Phoenix. Growing up, she feared harassment or violence if she were to reveal her transgender identity. But to be able to celebrate her identity and heritage in an event on her tribe’s traditional lands was an overwhelming feeling and a sign of change, she said.

Dozens of Two-Spirit organizations have formed around North America in recent years. California’s Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirit Powwow is now in its eighth year and draws as many as 4,000 attendees annually. Canadian cities Saskatoon and Winnipeg have recently hosted Two-Spirit powwows. And in 2018, a Two-Spirit contingent took part in the grand entry at the Gathering of Nations, the world’s largest powwow, for the first time.

Two-Spirit, an umbrella term for non-binary definitions of gender and sexuality from Native American traditions, takes inspiration from terminology in the Ojibwe language for men who filled women’s roles in society, or women who took on men’s roles. Many of North America’s indigenous traditions include more than just male and female understandings of gender, but hundreds of years of forced assimilation stamped out many tribes’ customs and oral traditions. Two-Spirit powwows are part of a growing movement among Native Americans who say rigid ideas of gender and sexuality are unfortunate remnants of colonization — participants say it’s time to rethink native identities on their own terms.

“There’s no way you can talk about colonization without talking about gender and sexuality,” said Chris Finley, assistant professor of American studies and ethnicity at the University of Southern California, and member of the Colville Nation.

When Europeans came to North America, they brought patriarchal societal traditions with them, Finley said. Wrapped up in those gender roles were Europeans’ understandings of land ownership and inheritance, ideas that were crucial to the process of seizing the continent from indigenous people.

Among the measures used to extinguish native customs in the United States was the state-sponsored Native American boarding school program, which forced generations of indigenous children to attend school away from their families to be educated in Christian, European traditions.

“If you don’t lose your language, start practicing Christianity, cut your hair, learn to speak English, you will die. That’s the choice so many native people were given,” said Roger Kuhn, board member of Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirits, and member of the Poarch Band of Creek Indians.

“Assimilation means you lose a lot of your identity,” Kuhn said, “and in that assimilation process I think is where we went astray with sexuality.”

Navajo tradition includes at least four genders. But generations of Navajo people like Sheila Lopez never learned that piece of cultural history.

Lopez grew up in Winslow, Ariz., just outside the Navajo Nation Reservation. Two of her three children identify as gay. Lopez is the founder of Phoenix Native PFLAG, the only Native American-focused chapter of the nationwide organization for families and allies of LGBT people.

“This community is marginalized and stigmatized and harassed,” Lopez said. “When [my children] came out, it was so hard for me, because I knew that society wasn’t so accepting.” Attitudes toward LGBT people vary across North America’s more than 500 distinct indigenous cultures, but a 2015 survey from the National Center for Transgender Equality found transgender Native Americans experienced disproportionately high rates of rejection by immediate family compared with transgender people from other backgrounds. Same-sex marriage remains a point of debate in some tribes.

It was only after learning her children were gay that Lopez first heard of the Navajos’ broader definitions of gender.

“For me, it’s like, why wasn’t I taught that?” she said. “We need to start talking about bringing back those traditions of accepting everyone no matter your orientation or your gender expression.”

In planning the Arizona Two-Spirit Powwow, Lopez looked to the BAAITS Powwow. Kuhn said the event includes the music, food, dancing and handicrafts common to powwows across North America, but it takes a unique approach to gender. A Native American drum circle is generally defined as a male space, while some dance styles such as the buckskin dance are typically performed by women. Early in its history, the BAAITS Powwow did away with those gender rules.

Stereotypes about Native Americans often conflate living people with ancient cultures. “We’re the only race who’s expected to stay exactly the same,” Finley said. For her, gender and sexuality present exciting opportunities to create new native traditions.

“A lot of the things that come up with gender and sexuality are things that we actually can change within our own communities,” Finley said. “We don’t have to wait for settlers to pass acts of Congress or start giving us our land back. This is work we can do now, for ourselves, with ourselves.”

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PRI THE WORLD: This tour group takes you beyond the border to Nogales’ culinary scene

The border town of Nogales is sometimes referred to as “ambos Nogales” or both Nogales. That’s because part of the community is in Arizona, and part is in Sonora, Mexico. The twin towns are divided by a metal wall, nearly two stories high, and a few months ago, U.S. military troops deployed to the border added half-a-dozen rows of razor wire to the barrier.

A high wall covered in razor wire divides the towns of Nogales, Ariz. and Nogales, Mexico. The Nogales, Ariz. City Council has asked the U.S. federal government to remove the razor wire.

It doesn’t look like a tourist attraction, but this is where most tours with the Border Community Alliance begin. The tour groups meet up on the US side, then it’s just a short walk through a metal detector, then a gate, and into Mexico. No one checks your ID, no one asks questions.

“We want to show that there’s so much more going on and very positive,” said Alex La Pierre, program director for Border Community Alliance. The goal of the cross-border tours, he said, is “citizen-level diplomacy, bringing people to Mexico to make up their own minds.”

La Pierre guides these tours, taking hundreds of Americans each year to see what’s really on the other side of the border. The Arizona-based nonprofit offers multiple travel itineraries, including overnight tours and day-trips, all of them meant to counteract fears about the border region. Some tours highlight local businesses or area history, but this tour was all about Sonoran cuisine.

“The act of sitting at a table and breaking bread with someone is almost ritualistic in promoting good relations. And what’s not to like about food?” La Pierre said.

A group of 15 Americans were on this Gastronomic Nogales day-trip, and one of the day’s highlights was a meal at La Llorona, a cozy restaurant with star-shaped lanterns twinkling from the ceiling, a hand-drawn chalkboard menu and, most importantly, really tasty food.

“I had birria, which is a soup that’s complex with chiles and delicious beef. I could eat this probably every day,” said Quince Affolter, a visitor from Portland, Oregon.

The upscale menu at La Llorona is not the cheese-covered fare standard at many Mexican restaurants in the US. This meal, and all of the stops on this tour, were focused on challenging stereotypes about Mexico.

As it happens, these Americans walked over the border for this tour the day after US President Donald Trump declared a national emergency to build a border wall.

Affolter said, it doesn’t feel to her like there’s an emergency, “Certainly my experience in being here, everything is easy and very normal. It’s fun to see the streets so alive.”

This border community isn’t totally free of crime, though. Last month, US Customs and Border Protection made their largest seizure ever of the drug fentanyl in Nogales. Trump tweeted his thanks to the border agents who made the drug bust, while critics pointed out that the bust happened at a legal point of entry, and a border wall couldn’t have stopped that.

Alex La Pierre stops on a sidewalk in Nogales, Mexico to tell American tourists about some of the area’s history.

But La Pierre said, when debates over drugs and violence dominate the news about the border, Americans only hear a tiny part of a much bigger story.  

“We really see this work as being on the front trenches of changing minds about the border region,” he said.

Most people who come on Border Community Alliance tours are Arizona “snowbirds,” retirees from colder parts of the country, who spend winter months in the Southwest. La Pierre said that puts his organization in a unique position to be able to spread good news about the borderlands across the US.  

“We basically charge them with the homework that you’re now a goodwill ambassador for Mexico because you’ve had a firsthand experience,” he said. “So go back to Minnesota or go back to New Hampshire, wherever you live, half of the year, and please share with your neighbors.”

Some Nogalenses wish that message would reach more Americans too. Alma Grijalva runs a casual fish taco shop called El Pescadito, the first stop on this gastronomic tour. She said she gets a lot of American diners, especially on the weekends. She’s happy to serve them, she said, but wishes relations between Americans and Mexicans weren’t so politically uncomfortable right now.

“We’re neighbors, we’re almost brothers, we should be fine,” she said in Spanish.

From El Pescadito, the tour group rode in a van through Nogales, all the while hearing the history of the area from La Pierre. The tour passed busy shopping areas, sports arenas and schools — signs of a city whose population has exploded since the 1990s. That’s due, in large part, to manufacturing jobs and an economy built around cross-border trade.

Later in the afternoon, the tour stopped at Cerveceria Argova, a new craft brewery. Andres Vega, the 20-something Nogalense entrepreneur who started the business, said he wants Americans to see that his hometown is a great place to visit.

Andres Vega pours beer for American visitors on a gastronomic tour of Nogales with the Arizona nonprofit, Border Community Alliance.

“We need to change that perspective from the USA that Mexico is so different and difficult, right? But you can come, and get really good food and really good beer,” he said.  

The trip across the border wasn’t completely hassle-free. To get back into the US, the American visitors waited in line, presented their passports and answered a custom agent’s questions before crossing back through that razor wire-covered gate.

This month, the city council of Nogales, Arizona passed a resolution demanding the federal government remove the razor wire, saying their city isn’t a war zone or a prison.

That’s something that’s become clear to border tourist Peg Wickliffe. After a day of tacos, craft beer and history lessons, she said all of the anxiety surrounding the border feels misplaced to her.

“It’s just like going down the road — it is going down the road. I mean, they’re our neighbors, this is our neighborhood, if there wasn’t a wall,” she said.  

After all, Wickliffe said, it’s pretty hard to feel scared of someone once you’ve sat down for a meal with them.

Listen to this story on PRI The World

WASHINGTON POST: As temperatures keep trending up, ‘heat belt’ cities maneuver to stay livable

By Robert Moore and Katherine Davis-Young

EXCERPT

…Phoenix is already one of the hottest cities in the country, as well as one that is warming the fastest. Six years ago, it received a grant from the nonprofit organization Cities of Service to tackle rooftops on city buildings. Volunteers helped paint white reflective coating on the targeted sites, and the results showed that it reduced air-conditioning costs, energy use and carbon emissions.

Today the coating is standard for any new city project. “When a new roof is constructed on a building, a cool roof goes in,” said Michael Hammett, Phoenix’s chief service officer.

And for the past six months, this time backed by a Mayors Challenge grant from Bloomberg Philanthropies, city officials have gathered data for a first-of-its-kind program to make Phoenix “HeatReady” through education, public communication, infrastructure, housing and emergency services.

They now have a tree-shade master plan that has helped to plant 500 desert-friendly trees in neighborhoods with little shade — and temperature monitors at some sites to determine if the temperature impact can be measured. As an experiment several weeks ago, the city installed misting sprayers at a public bus shelter to see if they would effectively cool people waiting. Increased ridership would be an added bonus.

“We need to move on this. We need to show that we’re moving on this,” Deputy City Manager Karen Peters said. She acknowledges that the climatic trajectory could put the city’s economic future at risk. “We need to be able to communicate to our residents, our businesses, our visitors, ‘You can navigate this comfortably and safely.’ ” …

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PNS: Thousands in Arizona Await Citizenship as Backlog Skyrockets

The backlog of applications from legal residents waiting to become U.S. citizens has skyrocketed, and immigration rights groups are demanding answers, saying the delays are of special concern in an election year.

More than 14,000 Arizonans are legal permanent residents who qualify to become U.S. citizens but are waiting for their applications to be processed, according to the 
National Partnership for New Americans
.

Ben Monterroso, executive director of the civic engagement group Mi Familia Vota, says the approval process used to take just a few months, but now, some applicants wait nearly two years.

“They’re going to continue paying taxes and obeying the law, but they will not be able to participate in the democracy of this country – meaning not eligible to vote – and a lot of people are looking to express their voice at the ballot box,” he states.

Monterroso’s organization is one of several that this week, submitted a Freedom of Information Act request to find out why U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services operations have slowed so dramatically.

The application backlog has grown by nearly 90 percent since 2016. In Arizona, the rate of increase has been even higher.

Monterroso says more than 700,000 legal permanent residents across the country have gone through a lengthy process and paid hundreds of dollars in application fees, with little response from the government.

“They already have legal, permanent residence for more than five years, and filled out all the paperwork that’s required to become a citizen, and have shown that they are eligible,” he points out. “So, we need to figure out what is taking so long.”

Mayors of 46 U.S. cities and 50 members of Congress have written to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services to demand action on the backlog. That list includes Tucson Mayor Jonathan Rothschild, and Reps. Ruben Gallego and Raul Grijalva of Arizona.

 

Listen to this story on Public News Service

Image: Grand Canyon National Park/Flickr

ATLAS OBSCURA: Why So Many Public Libraries Are Now Giving Out Seeds

On a shelf just behind the reference desk at the Harmon branch of the Phoenix Public Library, are small pouches of seeds. Like the books and DVDs, they’re available to check out. The library allows visitors to take a few packets of the vegetable and flower seeds home for free just by showing their library card.

“It’s innovative, it’s different, it’s another way for people to interact with the library,” says Lee Franklin, the library’s spokesperson. “It’s been really well received.”

The Phoenix Public Library first put seeds on the shelves at one of its branches in 2014. Franklin says they were immediately in high demand. Now the library distributes an average of 1,000 seed packets per month across nine of its 17 branches. Franklin says the program has proven to be sustainable with minimal costs—around $300-$500 to bring a seed-sharing program to a new branch of the library. And, Franklin says, the organizational tasks of offering seeds fit seamlessly with the library’s existing cataloguing system.

The Phoenix Public Library is not alone. Hundreds of public libraries around the U.S. have adopted similar initiatives to offer free seeds to library-goers. Seed-sharing programs aim to expand access to crops and educate the public, while also protecting scarce agricultural resources.

“It’s great if we have all this sustainability, but unless we have access to seeds, all the other aspects of sustainable agriculture really don’t mean anything,” says Rebecca Newburn, co-founder of the Richmond Grows Seed Lending Library in Richmond, California.

Newburn says the common goal of seed libraries is to educate people on the unique plants and specific needs of the region, be it high-altitude, humid, urban, or rural. But each seed library is a little different.

“It’s so sweet to see different communities come up with what works for them,” Newburn says.

Some seed libraries just give seeds away, while others rely on participants to grow a plant to maturity, capture new seeds, and contribute back to the collection. Many seed libraries are run by nonprofits, clubs, or school groups, but Newburn says public libraries, with built-in resources for community outreach and educational programming, have become the most common place to find these programs.

Just a handful of public library seed programs existed around the U.S. in 2010, when Newburn, a middle school science teacher, helped introduce the concept to her local library. Then, in 2011, Newburn and her collaborators posted the framework for their seed program online for others to replicate. She also joined with other seed enthusiasts to create a website called the Seed Library Social Network to connect similar programs and share tips with other seed savers.

“Then it just started growing like wildflowers all over the place,” Newburn says—pun intended.

In less than a decade, Newburn’s list of seed libraries has grown to include around 500 programs from Oakland to Dallas to Martha’s Vineyard. Many more are in early development stages, Newburn says.

Newburn, and other organizers like her, hope that as numbers of seed libraries increase nationwide, so too will understanding of ecological issues.

“This is really the first time in human history where every individual doesn’t have to grow their own food,” says Joy Hought, executive director of Tucson-based seed preservation nonprofit, Native Seeds/SEARCH. That makes an impact on biodiversity, she says.

As plant species reproduce, new generations develop unique adaptations to different environmental conditions, resulting in diverse heirloom varieties. But when large companies control most food production and seed distribution, and work to hybridize and streamline agriculture, those regional differences can disappear.

“I don’t see us as competing against large industrial seed producers, we just want to make sure that biodiversity is still available to people,” Hought says. She also notes that, as climate change alters the environment, she hopes access to more varieties of seeds will prepare food growers to cope with extreme conditions.

Hought’s organization has provided seeds for several seed libraries, and she says launching these programs is not without challenges.

“In practical reality, questions start to come into play like, how do we make sure, if someone is bringing in carrot seeds, that it is what it says it is on the package?” Hought says.

Hought says not everyone has the organizational skills to manage a seed-sharing program, but if there’s any profession well suited to the task, it’s librarians.

“I can’t think of a better structure that’s already in place to handle it,” she says.

Phoenix Public Library spokesperson Lee Franklin says seed sharing makes sense from a library’s perspective too. The opportunities to expand access to home-grown food and educate people about the region’s history and ecology through educational programming and seed distribution fit squarely into the library’s missions of community building and promoting lifelong learning, Franklin says.

“We can fold all that in and help people have knowledge that they can use to make their lives better,” Franklin says, “Maybe it’s a little idealistic, but we can see that ripple effect.”

To Newburn, pairing community seed sharing with public libraries makes perfect sense. After all, she says, seeds are a lot like books.

“[Seeds are] cultural documents of what we have saved and found valuable in terms of taste and community,” Newburn says. “When we take the seeds home and plant them and return them we’re actually adding another chapter.”

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PNS: To Save Water, Arizona Farmers Try Beer

The Verde River, which flows through central Arizona, is a critical source of water in this arid state. So, The Nature Conservancy in Arizona looked for a strategy to reduce demand on the river, especially in low-flowing summer months.

The answer is beer – or at least, the barley that goes into making beer. Barley is planted in winter, then harvested in June, so it doesn’t require as much water during Arizona’s driest months.

But Kim Schonek, Verde River Program director for The Nature Conservancy says barley isn’t a very high-value crop.
“A farmer isn’t going to make the choice to grow a crop that pays less just because it uses less water, as long as that water is available to them,” she explains.

So, The Nature Conservancy worked with a local entrepreneur to open Arizona’s first malt house. Malting is the process that gets barley ready to be made into beer, and barley used for beer sells at higher prices. Schonek hopes having a malt house right in the Verde Valley will give farmers an incentive to grow more of the water-wise crop.

Schonek says several of Arizona’s craft breweries have already expressed interest in buying barley that’s locally grown and malted. And two farms in the Verde Valley have already started growing the grain.
Schonek estimates if 10 percent of Verde Valley farmland was converted to barley from other crops like corn that demand more water, that would keep about 200 million gallons of water in the Verde River during the summer months.

“This is an opportunity for us as Arizonans to step up and manage a water supply in a way that’s beneficial for us, as the people that live in the watershed and the people downstream that benefit from it,” she says.

The malt house started operations this spring, and Schonek says the first batch of Arizona-malted barley should be finished at the end of this week.

Listen to this story on Public News Service 

Image: Quinn Dombrowski/Flickr

PNS: New Phoenix Apartments Built for Residents with Autism

New condo and apartment complexes under construction are a common sight in downtown Phoenix, but the project known as First Place AZ is different.

The $15.3 million apartment building, which will open this summer, is designed for adults with autism. The plan includes numerous safety features, as well as design elements such as quiet appliances to minimize sensory overload.

“First Place represents an innovative approach to housing for special populations,” said Denise Resnik, founder and president of First Place AZ, “and our bold vision is to ensure that housing and community options are as bountiful for people with autism and other neural diversities as they are for everyone else.”

Resnik said the apartment community is the result of nearly 20 years of research and planning by the nonprofit Southwest Autism Research and Resource Center. She hopes Phoenix can be a leader for other cities in accommodating people with autism.

Location was key to the design, she said. The apartments are convenient to medical facilities, community colleges and public transportation.

“Several people with autism and with other different abilities don’t drive,” she said, “and so, how do you get from your home to your big life? Transportation is very important, especially when mom and dad are no longer your wheels.”

First Place isn’t meant to be a group home or medical-care facility, but an apartment community that celebrates neurological diversity, Resnik said. Rent will start at $3,600 a month for a one-bedroom unit. Resnik acknowledged that it’s expensive, but the cost includes a number of in-house services. The building will have 24-hour support staff, and residents will have access to cooking classes, group activities and some health services.

“I think it’s going to be so cool, just being part of a greater community that’s very autism friendly,” said Lindsey Eaton, 24, who will be one of its first residents.

First Place is taking reservations for its 55 units. Doors are set to open in July.

 

Listen to this story on Public News Service

 

ATLAS OBSCURA: The College Student Who Decoded the Data Hidden in Inca Knots

There are many ways a college student might spend spring break. Making an archaeological breakthrough is not usually one of them. In his first year at Harvard, Manny Medrano did just that.

“There’s something in me, I can’t explain where it came from, but I love the idea of digging around and trying to find secrets hidden from the past,” Medrano says.

With the help of his professor, Gary Urton, a scholar of Pre-Columbian studies, Medrano interpreted a set of six khipus, knotted cords used for record keeping in the Inca Empire. By matching the khipus to a colonial-era Spanish census document, Medrano and Urton uncovered the meaning of the cords in greater detail than ever before. Their findings could contribute to a better understanding of daily life in the Andean civilization.

The Inca Empire reached its height of power in 15th- and 16th-century Peru. When Spanish conquistadors invaded, the Inca had established the largest and most complex society in the Americas. Architectural marvels from the civilization, such as Machu Picchu, survive to this day, but the Inca left behind no written records.

The only records the Inca are known to have kept are in the form of intricately knotted khipu textiles. In 2002, Urton began Harvard’s Khipu Database Project. He traveled to museums and private collections around the world to record the numbers of knots, lengths of cords, colors of fibers, and other distinguishing details about every Inca khipu he could find—more than 900 in total.

Urton says he and other researchers in the field have always had a general sense of what the khipus represented. Many, they could tell, had to do with census data. Others appeared to be registers of goods or calendar systems. But, until recently, none of the khipus Urton studied could be understood on a very detailed level. If the khipus held messages or cultural information beyond just numbers, the meanings were opaque to modern scholars.

A turning point came when Urton began looking into a set of six khipus from the 17th-century Santa River Valley region of Northwest Peru. One day, Urton picked up a book and happened to spot a Spanish census document from the same region and time period.

“A lot of the numbers that were recorded in that census record matched those six khipus exactly,” Urton says.

It was an exciting enough coincidence that Urton mentioned it to his undergraduate students at the end of class in the spring of 2016. For Medrano, who was sitting in the lecture hall that day, it was too enticing of a lead to ignore.

“I walked up to him and said, ‘hey, spring break is coming up, if you need someone to put a few hours into this, I’d be happy to take a look,’” Medrano recalls.

Medrano, now a 21-year-old junior, was a freshman at the time. He is majoring in economics, but had always found archaeology interesting and had enrolled in Urton’s course on the Inca civilization, curious to study a period of history about which he knew little.

Urton agreed to allow Medrano to look into the Santa Valley khipus and the Spanish census. “[I wasn’t] thinking he’d ever do much with it because I’d had one or two other people look at it before and nobody could ever come up with anything,” Urton says.

The khipus in question are in a private collection in Peru, so Medrano worked from information Urton had recorded in his khipu database. Medrano recalls combing through spreadsheets in Microsoft Excel, graphing some of the data, and enjoying the hunt for patterns.

“I have a love of puzzles, just for entertainment. I love to do a Sudoku on a plane or something, but this is so much more profound,” he says.

Medrano comes from a Mexican-American family and speaks Spanish, so understanding the Spanish census document was no problem. Handling numbers and data came naturally to him as well, as an economics major. The challenge, as both Medrano and Urton note, seemed to demand a perfect alignment of his skills and interests.

“Not every archaeology project operates in Excel,” Medrano points out.

Medrano noticed that the way each cord was tied onto the khipu seemed to correspond to the social status of the 132 people recorded in the census document. The colors of the strings also appeared to be related to the people’s first names. The correlations seemed too strong to be a coincidence. After spring break, Medrano told his professor about his theories.

“I just remember being pretty excited, that, ‘Wow! I think the guy’s got it,’” Urton says. “There were a couple of things that didn’t add up and I’d point that out and he’d take it back and work on it for a week or two and come back and he would have understood something about it at a deeper level.”

Medrano worked with Urton over the next several months and the two compiled their findings into a paper which will be published in the peer-reviewed journal Ethnohistory in January. Medrano is the first author on the paper, indicating he contributed the bulk of the research, something Urton notes is extremely rare for an undergraduate student.

Sabine Hyland researches Andean anthropology at the University of St. Andrews. She has read Medrano and Urton’s forthcoming paper and describes their discoveries as “thrilling.”

“Manny has proven that the way in which pendant cords are tied to the top cord indicates which social group an individual belonged to. This is the first time anyone has shown that and it’s a big deal,” Hyland says.

Urton is now optimistic that the six khipus examined in the research could serve as a key to decode the hundreds of others he has in his database. The colors of the cords as they relate to first names could hint at the meanings of colors in other khipus, for example.

“There’s a lot we can draw on from this one case,” Urton says.

But what’s most exciting to Urton and Medrano is the potential to better understand Inca history from the indigenous point of view. As Medrano puts it, “history has been written from the perspective of the conquerors and to reverse that hierarchy is what I see this project as doing.”

Read this story on Atlas Obscura

Image:  Claus Ableiter nur hochgeladen aus enWiki – enWiki, hochgeladen von User Lyndsaruell; siehe http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Inca_Quipu.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2986739