Exercise 2
February 18, 2026 By: T00783350
My grandparents’ childhood was in small communities in NL during the mid-twentieth century, when their way of life was still connected to the land and the sea. Although I was raised in a planned town centered on an airport, my grandparents were raised in areas where the environment was not a view to be enjoyed—it was a means of survival.
Fishing, small-scale agriculture, wood harvesting, and hunting were not recreational activities but survival needs. Cod, salmon, and trout were natural sources of food, and moose had become a part of their landscape by the time of my grandparents’ childhood. Firewood for heating homes during the long winter months was provided by the forests.
A transition occurred in my parents’ generation. By the time they were young adults, NL was a Canadian province for many decades, and modernization was in full swing. My parents moved to Gander, a town which the backbone of it was the aviation aspect.
The world of their adulthood was more controlled and infrastructural. The roads were paved and the electricity was reliable. Oil furnaces became common in many homes, replacing the wood-burning stoves. Food came from supermarkets instead of gathering food themselves.
My parents’ ecological footprint would have been bigger than my grandparents’. Suburban living meant bigger lots and more heating. The need for cars became necessary in a sprawling town like Gander. Gender roles also played a part in environmental relationships. My grandmothers’ environmental activism was often done in the kitchen and garden—to preserve food, to manage resources—while my grandfathers was more directly linked to fishing or working in resource extraction industries. By the time my parents’ generation, these divisions had begun to break down.
Living in Gander, my experience of the environment has been both immediate and mediated. I can walk trails, forests within minutes of my home, and wildlife still roams into town. But my use of the local environment is also indirect. I do not eat salmon to stay alive, and I do not need to harvest firewood to stay warm during long winters.
Over three generations, my family has both relied on and altered our environment. My grandparents have harvested forests and food, my parents have helped build the suburbs and consumer society, and I am part of a global economy fueled by fossil fuels and information technology. The greatest different may be awareness. My grandparents operated in the context of the environment out of necessity. My parents struck a balance between convenience and the growing awareness of the environment. I live in an era where being environmentally responsible is clear and pressing. I am more aware of carbon footprints, alternative energy, and sustainable living practices than my parents and grandparents were.
In conclusion, our experiences are superimposed on a landscape that has been formed by both natural and human-made processes. In reflecting on my grandparents’ survival needs, my parents’ impact on suburban streets, and my own concerns about climate change, I realize that the history of the environment is not something abstract.