I spent a good chunk of my life living in the shade of the Cypress Hills in Southeastern Alberta before moving to the bright lights of Edmonton. It’s been an interesting transition, and it’s taught me how our environment shapes the way in which we apply community values.
Let’s consider the value of neighbourliness. Most Albertans place a high value on being good neighbours. Yet that value gets expressed much differently in the Cypress Hills than it is in Edmonton.
In the Cypress Hills country, there’s a lot more miles than there are folks to occupy the landscape. There aren’t people around us to bail us out of trouble.
Edmonton is a big city, with all the people, traffic, and congestion that goes with urban life. People surround me on the street, and every conceivable business and service is at my fingertips.
Yet a person in trouble may get help quicker in the Cypress Hills than in Edmonton. It sounds contradictory, doesn’t it– like starving in a supermarket, but that’s the reality of life today. It’s also an excellent example of how our physical environment can shape our values.
Let’s consider a scenario where you’re a gent driving home late on a bitterly cold winter night in Edmonton. You see a female driver stopped at the side of the road struggling to change a tire. Do you stop to lend a hand? Chances are that you won’t. It’s late, she wasn’t really signaling for help, she can use her cell phone to call for help– you know this script. You focus on the road ahead and boogie on home.
Now let’s shift the locale to the Graburn Road that winds its’ way from the TransCanada Highway to the Cypress Hills. You’re a Cypress Hills rancher, it’s late at night, and as you come around a bend you see a truck up ahead in the snowy ditch. As you get closer, you see it is Fred Stumpkopf. Your family and the Stumpkopfs have been feuding for three generations. Surely you too would focus on the road ahead and boogie on home?
Not on your life. You would stop, grab your snow shovel, and help Fred get his truck back on the road. Between the two of you, there wouldn’t be ten words spoken, including his parting; “Thanks for the help” before you each continued on your way.
That’s because one of the cardinal sins in the Cypress Hills country is leaving someone stuck. It’s right up there with starving your livestock and having a portrait of Pierre Trudeau hanging in your living room.
In the Cypress Hills, the isolation has created a powerful need for mutual support, and that need has driven a dominant community value that demands personal responsibility for others.
Here in Edmonton, the complexity of urban life has eroded our desire to help our fellow man. Again, our environment shapes our values. There’s no “right” or “wrong’ value sets here; just the reality of living in communities with different environments.
Where does that leave me? Which values have I adopted? The Cypress Hills has shaped my values, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
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