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《娜丽妮·纳德卡尼: 监狱里的生命科学》(Nalini Nadkarni: Life science in prison) 演讲人：娜丽妮·纳德卡尼 / Nalini Nadkarni 关于这场演讲 娜丽妮·纳德卡尼向我们对于树木以及监狱的看法发起挑战--她认为这两者都比我们所想的更具活力。通过与华盛顿州政府的合作，她为囚犯们带来了丰富的科学课程以及环境保育项目，并取得了超乎预期的效果。 About this talk Nalini Nadkarni challenges our perspective on trees and prisons -- she says both can be more dynamic than we think. Through a partnership with the state of Washington, she brings science classes and conservation programs to inmates, with unexpected results. 关于娜丽妮·纳德卡尼 娜丽妮·纳德卡尼被称作“树冠研究界的女王”，她探索了丰富而又充满活力的树冠世界。她借助于诗人、传教士和囚犯，来和非科学家们交流她的研究心得。 About Nalini Nadkarni Called 'the queen of canopy research,' Nalini Nadkarni explores the rich, vital world found in the tops of trees. She communicates what she finds to non-scientists -- with the help of poets, preachers and prisoners. 演讲稿 树木象征静止，树木数百年扎根于同一方土地。但是如果我们把注意力从树干转移到树枝上，树木的活力就显现出来了，它们一直处在运动以及成长中。我决定把树木视为画家，以探索它们的“动”。于是我就把画笔绑在细枝末端上，我静待风起，撑起画布，树的作品就这么诞生了。左边这幅是由西岸红雪松所作，右边这幅则是花旗松所作。这让我明白了不同树种的画风不同，如同毕加索与莫奈画风相异一样。 不仅是树之“动”，我对如何捕捉量化它们亦颇感兴趣。所以为了测出创作了这幅画的那棵藤枫，在一年内运动的距离，我略测了每条线的长度，然后加起来，乘以每根枝干的细枝数，再乘以每棵树的枝干数，再乘以每年的分钟数。这样我就能推算出，一棵树每年运动的距离。大家可以猜一猜，答案是186,540英里（约三十万公里），相当于绕地球七圈。只要我们把关注的焦点从静的树干转至动的细枝上，我们就能看出树木不只是静止的物体。相反，它们相当灵动。 于是我就开始思考，我们能从树木身上学到些什么？联想到其他静驻不动，但迫切寻求改变和活力的事物，比如监狱。当然，监狱里关押的是触犯法律的人，他们被关在铁窗内。我们的监狱系统是静态的，美国的监狱关押着超过二百三十万的男女囚犯，这一数字还在增长中。每一百个出狱的人中，会有六十人再度犯罪入狱。教育培训以及改造犯人方面的经费在不断缩减，这样就成了恶性的监禁循环。我决定去探究我从树木的艺术中的学到的经验，能否应用到监狱这样的地方呢？我认为答案是肯定的。 在2007年，我开始与华盛顿州的囚犯矫正部门合作。我们和四个监狱合作，引进科学实验及科学家，在这四个州监狱里开展可持续性的保护项目。我们为囚犯提供科学课程，他们放弃看电视或者举重健身，选择来听我们的课。我认为，这行动等同于树的“动”.我们还与自然保护协会合作，引导斯坦福克里克监狱的囚犯种植频临灭绝的草原植被，来重建华盛顿州的荒废草原，这也是“动”。我们与华盛顿州鱼类及野生动物部门合作，养殖濒危青蛙、俄勒冈州斑点蛙，将来放回湿地保护区，我认为这也是“动”。 最近，我们开始和那些在监狱里被隔离到特别牢房的囚犯合作，他们曾与狱警或其他囚犯有过暴力冲突，而被隔离囚禁。他们每天在这样的小房间里度过二十三个小时。当他们和审查委员会或心理健康专家会面时，他们就会被安排在这些固定的小房间里。他们每天只有一个小时可以在这个死气沉沉的操场上活动。虽然我们不能把树木，草原植物，或青蛙带到这里，但是我们将大自然的图像带进这些操场，把它们贴在墙上。这样至少他们可以在视觉上感受到大自然。这是洛佩兹先生，他已经被单独监禁了十八个月。他帮助我们选出他认为能使他和其他犯人，更加心宁气静、减少暴力倾向的图片。 综上，我们可以看到，这一步步小的“动”积累起来，就有可能推动监狱系统走向希望。当我们关注于树干时，它们是静的。但是如果树木能创造艺术，如果他们一年能绕地球七圈，如果囚犯可以植木养蛙，那很有可能其他静的事物，如我们内心所持的悲伤、沉溺、种族歧视等，也能有所改变。 谢谢大家。 Transcript Trees epitomize stasis. Trees are rooted in the ground in one place for many human generations. But if we shift our perspective from the trunk to the twigs, trees become very dynamic entities, moving and growing. And I decided to explore this movement by turning trees into artists. I simply tied the end of a paintbrush onto a twig. I waited for the wind to come up and held up a canvas. And that produced art. The piece of art you see on your left is painted by a western red cedar, and that on your right by a Douglas fir. And what I learned was that different species have different signatures, like a Picasso versus a Monet. But I was also interested in the movement of trees and how this art might let me capture that and quantify it. So to measure the distance that a single vine maple tree -- which produced this painting -- moved in a single year, I simply measured and summed each of those lines. I multiplied them by the number of twigs per branch and the number of branches per tree and then divided that by the number of minutes per year. And so I was able to calculate how far a single tree moved in a single year. You might have a guess. The answer is actually 186,540 miles, or seven times around the globe. And so simply by shifting our perspective from a single trunk to the many dynamic twigs, we are able to see that trees are not simply static entities, but rather extremely dynamic. And I began to think about ways that we might consider this lesson of trees, to consider other entities that are also static and stuck, but which cry for change and dynamicism. And one of those entities is our prisons. Prisons, of course, are where people who break our laws are stuck, confined behind bars. And our prison system itself is stuck. The United States has over 2.3 million incarcerated men and women. That number is rising. Of the hundred of incarcerated people that are released, 60 will return to prison. Funds for education, for training and for rehabilitation are declining. So this despairing cycle of incarceration continues. I decided to ask whether the lesson I had learned from trees as artists could be applied to a static institution such as our prisons. And I think the answer is yes. In the year 2007, I started a partnership with the Washington State Department of Corrections, working with four prisons, we began bringing science and scientists, sustainability and conservation projects to four state prisons. We give science lectures. And the men here are choosing to come to our science lectures instead of watching television or weightlifting. That, I think, is movement. We partnered with the Nature Conservancy for inmates at Stafford Creek Corrections Center to grow endangered prairie plants for restoration of relic prairie areas in Washington state. That, I think, is movement. We worked with the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife to grow endangered frogs, the Oregon spotted frog, for later release into protected wetlands. That, I think, is movement. And just recently, we've begun to work with those men who are segregated in what we call Supermax facilities. They've incurred violent infractions by becoming violent with guards and with other prisoners. They're kept in bare cells like this for 23 hours a day. When they have meetings with their review boards or mental health professionals, they're placed in immobile booths like this. For one hour a day they're brought to these bleak and bland exercise yards. And although we can't bring trees and prairie plants and frogs into these environments, we are bringing images of nature into these exercise yards, putting them on the walls, so at least they get contact with visual images of nature. This is Mr. Lopez, who has been in solitary confinement for 18 months. And he's providing input on the types of images that he believes would make him and his fellow inmates more serene, more calm, less apt to violence. And so what we see, I think, is that small, collective movements of change can perhaps move an entity such as our own prison system in a direction of hope. We know that trees are static entities when we look at their trunks. But if trees can create art, if they can encircle the globe seven times in one year, if prisoners can grow plants and raise frogs, then perhaps there are other static entities that we hold inside ourselves, like grief, like addictions, like racism, that can also change. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
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