John Muir
Muir Woods
Last month, the Sierra Club, America’s “most enduring and influential grassroots environmental organization,” published Tearing Down Our Monuments, discussing its early history and how some of its early members perpetuated white supremacy. It’s a painful read for anyone like myself who cares about both their environmental work and the importance of social justice and the Black Lives Matter movement.
One of the saddest parts for me was the discussion around John Muir, the founder of the Sierra Club and “father of our national parks.” As a fellow Scotsman who also moved to California and developed a deep appreciation for our natural world, I’ve been drawn to his story and held his impact on the planet in high esteem. In fact, I held his words in such high regard that I built my Instagram persona and website, BeforeItGetsDark, around one of his quotes: “The world’s big, and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.” Unfortunately, a part of his story hasn’t been as popularized, and I admit I hadn’t read up on this before paying tribute.
Muir made derogatory and deeply hurtful comments about Black and Indigenous peoples in his writings. You can read more in the Washington Post and New York Times articles. Muir clearly did a lot of good in his life. His views on race evolved—his writing changed, and he joined the Sequoya League, a Native American rights group—but the more influence you have, the heavier the weight of your words. It’s certainly not an excuse to brush them off with a generalization about Muir being a man of his time.
If I’m being completely honest, I spent a moment considering whether his good contributions to our planet outweighed those comments and whether I could let his harmful words slide. Still, I believe we need to confront our pasts to move forward and do better. I’ve fully supported the removal of Confederate symbols and the statues of colonists, so to give Muir a pass from examination simply because it’s now inconvenient for me would be wrong. It made me wonder if I should move on from the BeforeItGetsDark username.
In deciding my next step, I read more and considered alternative names. The first idea was simply using my own name in conjunction with my photography, but apart from the fact I use that in my design career, I began to reflect that I’d been celebrating Muir’s massive contribution to conservation for a long time. Maybe there was an opportunity to honor someone or something else now. When I thought about the places I like to photograph—the public lands we hold dear and strive to protect, in no small part because of Muir—I thought about how many were torn from Indigenous people and how people of color are still underrepresented in their narrative. And when I thought about voices who consistently address these topics, I thought of Shelton Johnson.
For anyone who’s seen Ken Burns’ documentary series The National Parks: America’s Best Idea, you’ll be familiar with Shelton Johnson, an incredible park ranger who has been working for years to bring minorities into nature and connect them with the public lands they too own. During a lecture at the Chicago Humanities Festival, he described National Parks as “the fullest, purest, most beautiful expression of democracy that we have” while acknowledging that not everyone has received an invitation. When he brought Oprah to Yosemite in 2010 as a way to extend this invitation, he said, “Here we are in one of the most beautiful places in the world, and a chunk of our population does not visit places like this, and it’s a problem. It’s a problem in the sense that all Americans own the national parks, but not all Americans are here.”
Johnson’s inclusive message inspired me. Landscape and wildlife photography remind me that every piece of our ecosystem is connected and supports each other. We, as people, need to do a better job of remembering our connections to these spaces and each other. Ultimately, I couldn’t find a single quote from Johnson to draw from, but I feel this could be the right message to build on.
Next, I circulated my thoughts with many people from different backgrounds. I was a little surprised by some of the notes I got. The most common response was that, while Muir was clearly flawed, people needed room to change, and he did. I heard that highlighting people who grew might be more important than ignoring those who didn’t.
At this point, I still feel conflicted. Still, one of the most impactful discussions I discovered was a fascinating and thoughtful conversation between Dr. Carolyn Finney of the Franklin Environmental Center at Middlebury College and Robert Hanna, Muir’s great-great-grandson. They discussed the importance of dialogue in moments like this and seeing them as opportunities to grow. So, with that, I’m hoping some of you will discuss this with me. I’d love to hear your thoughts by messaging me on Instagram or emailing me at derick@beforeitgetsdark.photos.
Thank you to everyone who already discussed this with me.
