Christina Bevens Brown
I am just about to graduate from IHE and Cambridge College with my M.Ed. in Humane Education. But my search for the right master’s program still stands vividly in my memory. How in the world was I going to find the right school? My dream program was a pretty tall order: it had to allow me to explore human culture and behavior; I required an emphasis on the natural environment; and (this was the tough one) it had to take nonhuman animals seriously. Oh, wait, one more thing for the list: I wanted to be able to include fiction writing in the mix!I scoured the internet for interdisciplinary programs, for double majors, for design-your-own degrees. Environmental studies? Anthropology with a side of zoology or ecology? I even found an environmental creative writing program. I perused MFAs, MPPs, MAs, and MSes. Even programs with lots of flexibility fell short because their host universities did not have classes or even faculty with expertise in all the required areas.
Then I found it. I can’t recall what phrase I typed into the internet search engine, but there it was, Institute for Humane Education. The courses and reading lists looked very promising, addressing important cultural and environmental topics, with a whole section devoted to nonhuman animal issues. Well, so good so far! Then it got even better. I found that there were many options for the Independent Learning Project (ILP), the capstone of the M.Ed. program. Among those options is the “Creative ILP,” allowing students to develop an artistic project, such as a book or film. My search was over. A few short months later I began my Humane Education studies.
I won’t lie to you: it has been hard work! The reading and writing assignments were always intellectually challenging and were often emotionally demanding. While assigned reading tended to push me beyond existing borders of cultural and environmental literacy, the writing assignments often required deep introspection. This ebb and flow consistently stimulated and supported personal growth.
I have been especially engaged by the program’s emphasis on recognizing the shared roots of current environmental and societal challenges. For me, this common source is most meaningfully explored through a critical examination of anthropocentrism. Anthropocentrism is the notion that humanity holds a unique and superior place among living beings and within the world. This idea has sunk deep roots through hundreds of years of acculturation, the process by which individuals internalize, often unconsciously, the beliefs, values, and norms of their cultural group. Anthropocentrism is so entrenched, so pervasive, that it is almost invisible. For example, humans (at least in the U.S. and many other places) tend to think of their own animality as a technicality. Most of us accept that we are animals biologically, but continue to believe that there is a world of difference between humans and animals. If you read over the last words of the previous sentence without batting an eye, you have just let some anthropocentrism sneak by you. The phrase “between humans and animals” denies human animality, by putting humans in a category of their own. The less anthropocentric phrase would be “between humans and other animals.”
My preoccupation with anthropocentrism and my interest in fiction joined forces in the development of my ILP. After researching existing literature about anthropocentrism, learning through stories, and existing fiction in Humane Education I began to write my own small book of stories! Having found such a lot of fascinating scholarship during the literature review, I decided that each story should be followed by a discussion of related journal articles. Next, I realized that the collection could benefit from something that tied it all together thematically. I really thought I might be overdoing it when I pitched the following idea to Melissa Feldman, my project advisor: the collection will have a fictitious editor from the future! But she remained open-minded and supportive. The broad scope of Humane Education and the receptive, free-thinking faculty provided fertile ground for the development of my very unusual project. It is nearly complete and I am proud of the work I have done. Even more, though, I am hopeful that the book will expose anthropocentrism in an accessible and appealing way.
I feel empowered as I leave the Humane Education M.Ed. program. I don’t have a new job lined up. There aren’t even any particularly good employer prospects in my area. The economy is terrible. But none of these things worry me. Life is a journey and I will take a new turn on my path, my knapsack full of the gifts I received in the program: compassion, courage, insight, and love.









