rebecca l farnum

books

forthcoming:

- - Environmental Justice and Peacebuilding: Integrating Nature in Policy and Practice
    as part of a new series on Space and Practices of Justice

On Christmas Day in 1991, the Government of Kuwait formally accepted an offer from a group of young scuba divers to help remove underwater debris left by the Iraqi Invasion of Kuwait. What began as a patriotic act of post-conflict rebuilding grew into a national movement for marine conservation and environmental volunteering. This is the story of those volunteers, young Kuwaitis dedicated to preserving and protecting the rich resources and natural beauty offered by our planet’s water. It is a story of life and death, capture and rescue, wreck and restoration. It is a story meant to show you a different Middle East than you know. Read it here.
written by Becca Farnum for the Kuwait Dive Team

additional publications

click on the thumbnail for more details; click on the publication title for a free PDF download

on fog harvesting:

cover image for the Journal of Hydrology

Drops of Diplomacy
“Drops of Diplomacy” presents Becca’s research on environmental diplomacy with Dar Si Hmad, a non-profit operating the world’s largest fog harvesting system.

Fog Water Collection
This team-written interdisciplinary article explores policies, local capacities, gender inequalities, and the costs of fog harvesting projects.

Net Change
In the run-up to COP22, Becca and Dar Si Hmad’s leadership presented fog harvesting’s climate adaptation potential during a conference on Water, Energy, and Climate Change.

on hydro-politics:

cover image for International Environmental Agreements journal

Transboundary Water III
In “Contest & Compliance”, Zeitoun et al. consider how entrenched inequalities over water systems are challenged, reproduced, and transformed by states around the world.

Hydro-Hegemony +10
The London Water Research Group reflects on a decade of critical scholarship around hydro-hegemony, setting an expansive research agenda for the next ten years.

]

book cover for the 'Routledge Handbook of Water Law and Policy' showing a dam in the mountains

Law & Hydro-Hegemony
Chapter 22 of the Routledge Handbook examines “Hydro-hegemons and International Water Law” with fellow legal scholars Steph Hawkins and Mia Tamarin.

on participatory resource management:

book cover for 'Food Justice in US and Global Contexts' showing abstract leaf in blue and red tones

FoodBlessed
An AMENDS initiative created by 2015 Chevening Scholar Maya Terro is showcased in this volume’s opening vignette about food waste and activism in Lebanon.

book cover of 'Water, Creativity and Meaning' featuring human-water interaction vignettes

The Hydrosocial Spiral
This anthology introduces a participatory toolkit for water management re-envisioning the hydro cycle, created with UEA’s Water Security Research Centre.

Bright Futures
Becca and environmentalist Cherish Watton review Norfolk County Council’s multi-tiered mentoring approach to capacity-building in the green economy.

on study abroad:

cover image for International Journal of Development Education and Global Learning

Statecraft and Study Abroad
Becca and Dar Si Hmad’s former Ethnographic Field School Manager critique notions of “the state” in mainstream American study abroad practices.

cover image for Globalization, Civilization, and their Discontents

Studying (Un)civilised States
How borders and regional assumptions shape cross-cultural exchange is examined with one of Dar Si Hmad’s Environmental Youth Ambassadors.

cover image of Gender, Place and Culture journal

What’s in a Name?
Feminist scholar Amy Allen’s four types of power are brought to bear on study abroad and community relations in this brief piece for the journal’s 25th birthday.

books

additional publications

on fog harvesting:

on hydro-politics:

on participatory resource management:

on study abroad:

The Day the Sky Fell

On the day the sky fell And life turned to rubble I looked around and cried.

My soul whimpered "It hurts."

My heart whispered "I know."

"What do I do?" my soul asked. "Sit", said my heart. "Sit, and I shall sit here with you."

"But it's broken," my brain wailed. "We need to fix it."

"We will," assured my heart.

"When?" accused my brain.

"When we can see through the pain," my heart replied.

"We cannot fix what we do not understand. So for today, come. Sit with us. Feel. The pain will help teach us what we need to know."

My brain sat. And after a few moments, whimpered "It hurts."

Reaching out its hand, my soul whispered back "I know."

Holding them both, my heart pointed out "It should."

On the day the sky fell And life turned to rubble I looked around and cried.

In Between the Explosions

I’m tired.

I am so, so tired, looking around at the world.

The hopeful voice in me says “THIS is the world”, looking at a child laughing a tree dancing a whale breaching

The somber voice in me says “no, THIS is the world”, pointing out a labor camp a forest fire an oil spill

And I scream and curse, cry and sob, rant and rail as the optimist and the pessimist within me do battle

Until the timeless voice in me, made not of joy or pain, but simply the wisdom of the ages, speaks up:

“It is ALL the world This beautiful ugliness This glorious tragedy This fragmented unity”

Life started with a speck of dust on fire It has been a series of messy outbursts ever since What a privilege, to make love in between the explosions

I do not come in peace

I do not come in peace I come in righteous anger the fury of ages past pounding in my blood

I do not come in peace I come in weary sorrow the anguish of endless sobs lumping in my throat

I do not come in peace I come in abject horror the echo of tortured screams ringing in my ears

I do not come in peace but peace is where I want to go and so

I come in steadfast resolve the demand of equal rights sounding in my steps

I come in open protest the tension of deferred dreams thumping in my chest

I come in hopeful yearning the promise of future days singing in my soul

I do not come in peace but peace is what I mean to build

Dissent

On the day hope died, she whispered a benediction: "They are writing not for today, but for tomorrow."

Do you know the way to the revolution?

Excuse me, I’m looking for the revolution.

Do you know the way?

I trained all my life, eager to vanquish foes defeat evil fight injustice.

When I was fifteen, a cousin invited me to a poetry slam sharing the story of their pain. “No, I can’t go to that. I'm training for the revolution. Do you know the way?”

When I was twenty, a friend invited me to a concert singing the song of their hope. “No, I can’t go to that. I'm training for the revolution. Do you know the way?”

When I was thirty, a colleague invited me to a play telling the tale of their history. “No, I can’t go to that. I'm training for the revolution. Do you know the way?”

“Do you know the way to the revolution?” I asked this of everyone I met.

Then one night, a man overheard my question Called over to me “Yes! I know the way to the revolution. Follow me.”

Excited, I went with the man Finally, I would join the revolution

He led me down a road toward noisy clamour and loud footfall

My heart raced

A door opened.

I rushed my way in Sword drawn, ready to take on all comers.

Came to an abrupt halt. Confused.

The clamour was joyful music and the footfall was not made by soldiers at war.

I looked around suddenly realising I spent my life training to fight when what was asked of me was to dance.

The poetry slam. The concert. The play. Time and time again, I had been invited to the revolution. Ignored it. Too caught up in my own fantasy of what the revolution should look like.

I stood frozen terrified ashamed No idea what to do next.

A woman walked up to me smiled held out her hand “Want to dance?”

“I... I don’t know the steps.”

“That’s okay. I do. Follow me.”

The End of the Universe

The books we read as teens didn't make us think the end of the universe would start with a whisper.

We sat waiting for the earthquake, the alien invasion, the nuclear bomb.

But life is not like the movies And this is always how it has begun.

With a whisper here a lie there The slow creep-in of hatred and control becoming so pervasive it targets us too.

And so history sits Cassandra in the corner pleading over and over

This is always how it has begun, Warning signs everywhere.

You wanted your epic trilogy But those movies never start at the beginning of the story.

The end of the universe starts with a whisper.

Does the revolution?

Fairy Tale

On the day the sky fell
And life turned to rubble
I looked around and cried.

My soul whimpered
"It hurts."

My heart whispered
"I know."

"What do I do?" my soul asked.
"Sit", said my heart.
"Sit, and I shall sit here with you."

"But it's broken," my brain wailed.
"We need to fix it."

"We cannot fix what we do not understand.
So for today,
come.
Sit with us.
Feel.
The pain will help teach us what we need to know."

My brain sat.
And after a few moments,
whimpered
"It hurts."

Reaching out its hand,
my soul whispered back
"I know."

Holding them both,
my heart pointed out
"It should."

On the day the sky fell
And life turned to rubble
I looked around and cried.

The hopeful voice in me says “THIS is the world”, looking at
a child laughing
a tree dancing
a whale breaching

The somber voice in me says “no, THIS is the world”, pointing out
a labor camp
a forest fire
an oil spill

And I scream and curse, cry and sob, rant and rail
as the optimist and the pessimist within me do battle

“It is ALL the world
This beautiful ugliness
This glorious tragedy
This fragmented unity”

Life started with a speck of dust on fire
It has been a series of messy outbursts ever since
What a privilege, to make love in between the explosions

I do not come in peace
I come in righteous anger
the fury of ages past
pounding in my blood

I do not come in peace
I come in weary sorrow
the anguish of endless sobs
lumping in my throat

I do not come in peace
I come in abject horror
the echo of tortured screams
ringing in my ears

I do not come in peace
but peace is where I want to go
and so

I come in steadfast resolve
the demand of equal rights
sounding in my steps

I come in open protest
the tension of deferred dreams
thumping in my chest

I come in hopeful yearning
the promise of future days
singing in my soul

I do not come in peace
but peace is what I mean to build

On the day hope died,
she whispered a benediction:
"They are writing not for today,
but for tomorrow."

I trained all my life, eager to
vanquish foes
defeat evil
fight injustice.

When I was fifteen,
a cousin invited me to a poetry slam
sharing the story of their pain.
“No,
I can’t go to that.
I'm training for the revolution.
Do you know the way?”

When I was twenty,
a friend invited me to a concert
singing the song of their hope.
“No,
I can’t go to that.
I'm training for the revolution.
Do you know the way?”

When I was thirty,
a colleague invited me to a play
telling the tale of their history.
“No,
I can’t go to that.
I'm training for the revolution.
Do you know the way?”

“Do you know the way to the revolution?”
I asked this
of everyone I met.

Then one night, a man
overheard my question
Called over to me
“Yes!
I know the way to the revolution.
Follow me.”

Excited,
I went with the man
Finally,
I would join the revolution

He led me down a road
toward noisy clamour
and loud footfall

I rushed my way in
Sword drawn,
ready to take on all comers.

The clamour was joyful music
and the footfall was
not made by soldiers at war.

I looked around
suddenly realising
I spent my life
training to fight
when what was asked of me
was to dance.

The poetry slam.
The concert.
The play.
Time and time again,
I had been invited to the revolution.
Ignored it.
Too caught up
in my own fantasy
of what the revolution
should look like.

I stood frozen
terrified
ashamed
No idea what to do next.

A woman walked up to me
smiled
held out her hand
“Want to dance?”

“I...
I don’t know the steps.”

“That’s okay.
I do.
Follow me.”

The books
we read as teens
didn't make us think
the end of the universe
would start with a whisper.

We sat
waiting for the earthquake,
the alien invasion,
the nuclear bomb.

But life is not like the movies
And this is always how it has begun.

With a whisper here
a lie there
The slow creep-in
of hatred and control
becoming so pervasive
it targets us too.

And so history sits
Cassandra in the corner
pleading over and over

This is always how it has begun,
Warning signs everywhere.

You wanted your epic trilogy
But those movies
never start
at the beginning of the story.

The end of the universe
starts with a whisper.