Below is an excerpt from Professor David Haskell’s Convocation address on January 17, 2025.
“Today, I offer a few invitations to expand your curiosity and experience of the more-than-human world. Insects, plants, birds – these are our neighbors, our kin, part of the community of life that sustains us, yet we too often circle our attention inward into the stories of our own species, ignoring the community of the living Earth. Our own stories are important, of course, but they exist and are best understood in the wider context of all life. Look at the stained glass here in this building, each window illuminating the concerns and biases of its time, but all telling stories of humans, with animals and plants present as decoration or allegory, not for their own sakes. The same is true of much of the curriculum, not just here, but across higher ed. Sewanee does a far better job than most in offering classes and other experiences that open our senses, imaginations, and intellects to the marvels and brokenness of the living Earth. But here, as elsewhere, it is possible to graduate without being able to identify the common trees on campus, appreciate the music of birdsong, or understand the rhythms of life in the forests, fields, and waterways of the region. This removal from the living Earth makes it much harder for us to be good kin and neighbors. We also cut ourselves off from from the many joys of belonging.
So, a few suggestions about finding some of that joy. All of these suggestions start with opening your senses. Sensuality is a form of knowing.
The examples that I share are all creatures that you can experience right here in central campus, and whose lives reveal interesting stories. These are all seasonal treats, and I’ll start with those we can look forward to in future and work my way to some that you could experience today.
First, bugs! The late-summer chorus of katydids and cicadas is one of the signature sounds of the South. At night the katydids sing by their thousands. Individually they sound raspy. Chas-cha- cha, cha-cha-a “katy did, she didn’t”. Together, they synchronize and the whole mountain vibrates. In Shakerag Hollow, their sound is louder than the noise of a busy state highway. We’re hearing sunlight refracted through the prism of life into sound. Katydids feed on nothing but trees. So, we hear sunlight turned into leaves, turned into katydid sound, finally manifesting as human consciousness. This is also true for the cicadas whose buzz and whine fill summer and early autumn days. They eat plant sap and turn it into song. These are the sounds of productive forests, of the vitality of the good green Earth. To listen to and celebrate them is to find delight in the soundscapes of home.
Insects were the first animals to sing on Earth, starting about 275 million years ago. And so, listening to their chorus gives us a direct sensory experience of the early Earth. For insects, we don’t need a dinosaur movie, we live in one. We also, indirectly, owe those ancient insects our language and music. Back then, our ancestors had recently crawled onto land from the oceans and had terrible hearing in air. Mostly they could hear only low-pitched sounds that rumbled through the ground. Then, the world filled with singing katydids and other insects. For our ancestors, these were protein snacks, conveniently advertising their location with trilling sound. Soon after, our ancestors evolved ear drums and other features of the ear that helped them to hear and catch the insects. So, our ability to hear higher-pitched sounds in air – like the ones we use in human language and music – is partly a result of the first singing insects. So, this summer and fall, take time to listen to the glorious choruses of insects, and remember that you’re hearing sunlight, the vigor of trees, and even the ancient roots of human hearing. Remember, too, that things that seem disconnected – insect song and human hearing – are in fact linked through bonds of causality and contingency.”
You can read more about Professor Haskell’s writing at dghaskell.com