WANTED: Director of Global Citizenship (in Every School)

The World Our Students Inherit

Look around: the world our students are inheriting is fast, fragile, and unforgivingly interconnected.

A wildfire in South America can turn skies gray in another hemisphere. A TikTok posted in Asia can stir political debates in Europe. A pandemic can sweep across continents in weeks.

For today’s students, climate change, displacement, inequity, and disinformation are not distant headlines — they are everyday life.

And yet, most schools are still organized around an outdated promise: prepare kids for college and career. Important, yes. But no longer enough.

Education must do more. It must prepare young people to be responsible global citizens — able to think critically, act empathetically, and work across borders to build a more just and sustainable world.

 

Why Global Citizenship Belongs in K–12

Too often, “global citizenship” is treated as an enrichment activity — perhaps a travel program, a Model UN club, or a cultural assembly once a year. These are valuable, but insufficient. Global citizenship is not an add-on; it is central to what it means to be an educated person in today’s world.

Global citizenship education equips students to:

  • Recognize perspectives beyond their own.
  • Analyze complex issues that transcend borders.
  • Communicate across cultures with empathy and respect.
  • Take informed, ethical action to improve their communities and the wider world.

     

Research from UNESCO, the Asia Society, and the OECD shows that when students develop global competencies, they not only become more compassionate citizens, they also perform better academically and build resilience for careers in a rapidly changing workforce.

But here’s the challenge: most schools lack the structures to make global citizenship a sustained, strategic priority. Instead, it remains fragmented — a world language class here, a service project there. Without a unifying vision, opportunities for deeper learning are lost.

What’s needed is dedicated leadership. That’s where the role of a Director of Global Citizenship comes in.

 

What a Director of Global Citizenship Can Do

A Director of Global Citizenship is not simply another administrator. This role exists at the intersection of curriculum, culture, and community, weaving global perspectives into the daily life of the school.

Here’s what the position could encompass:

1. Curriculum Integration

  • Embedding global competencies — sustainability, human rights, intercultural literacy — across subjects.
  • Helping teachers connect lessons to global contexts. For example, a literature class might explore voices from multiple continents, or a math class might analyze global data sets.
  • Expanding opportunities for world language learning and exposure to diverse texts and histories.

2. Student Programs and Leadership

  • Developing student-driven initiatives like global issue clubs, Model UN, and intercultural dialogues.
  • Overseeing travel and exchange programs, ensuring they are equitable, ethical, and transformative.
  • Creating opportunities for students to lead awareness campaigns around issues like climate action or refugee support.

3. Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging

  • Connecting local DEI work with global justice movements, so students see how struggles for equity are shared across contexts.
  • Ensuring curricula highlight diverse voices and perspectives, especially from historically marginalized communities.
  • Guiding reflection on how identity, privilege, and culture shape experiences of global interdependence.

4. Service Learning and Partnerships

  • Designing reciprocal service-learning programs that avoid charity models and emphasize partnership.
  • Building relationships with NGOs, nonprofits, and schools worldwide.
  • Encouraging students to reflect on the ethical dimensions of service and community engagement.

5. Faculty Development and School Culture

  • Providing professional learning on global pedagogy, cultural competency, and inclusive practices.
  • Shaping school-wide events — global awareness weeks, visiting speakers, intercultural celebrations.
  • Advising leadership on aligning school policies with a global citizenship mission.

6. Communication and Accountability

  • Developing frameworks to assess global competencies, such as empathy, perspective-taking, and action.
  • Sharing stories of impact with families, alumni, and the broader community.
  • Staying current with best practices in global education to keep the school at the forefront. 

 

The Geographical Imagination

At The Geographical Imaginations Expedition & Institute, we emphasize the importance of cultivating the geographical imagination — part of which is the capacity to envision how our lives are deeply connected with people, places, and ecosystems beyond our immediate surroundings.

This is not about memorizing maps or capitals. It is about learning to imagine the world as an interconnected home, full of overlapping stories and shared challenges.

Expanding students’ geographical imagination helps them to:

  • See how local actions ripple globally, like how clothing choices connect to global supply chains.
  • Recognize how global forces shape local realities, from climate change to migration.
  • Question the narratives of place that media and politics present, and develop their own informed understanding. 

A Director of Global Citizenship could make the geographical imagination a guiding framework for schools — helping students situate their personal experiences within wider global contexts and see themselves as both local and global actors.

 

Alignment with Best Practices

This vision aligns with leading frameworks in education:

  • UNESCO’s Global Citizenship Education (GCED): promoting peace, sustainability, and human rights.
  • Asia Society’s Global Competence Matrix: guiding teachers to help students investigate the world, recognize perspectives, communicate ideas, and take action.
  • NAIS Principles of Good Practice: supporting intercultural fluency and equity.
  • The UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs): linking classroom learning to urgent global challenges.

These frameworks provide legitimacy and practical guidance. By creating a Director of Global Citizenship role, schools can join a global movement toward holistic, future-ready education.

 

The Impact on Students

When schools make global citizenship a priority, students:

  • Understand that they are part of a wider world, not just their immediate community.
  • Learn to analyze complexity and hold multiple perspectives at once.
  • Develop both critical thinking and empathy — skills often treated as separate, but essential together.
  • Build the confidence to take informed action on issues they care about.

Perhaps most importantly, they discover that their choices and voices matter. They leave school not only ready for the next stage of education but also ready to contribute meaningfully to a global society.

 

Why Now?

The urgency of this work cannot be overstated. Consider:

  • Climate change demands scientific literacy, ethical awareness, and global collaboration.
  • Artificial intelligence and digital networks are connecting — and dividing — people faster than societies can regulate.
  • Disinformation spreads globally in seconds, requiring critical media literacy.
  • Students are already global actors, encountering international issues daily through social media.

We cannot afford to wait. Global citizenship is not a luxury — it is a necessity for education in the 21st century.

 

A Call to Action

Every generation has to decide what kind of education it owes its children.

In ours, the answer is clear: one that goes beyond college prep and career readiness. One that equips students to navigate a world that is fast, fragile, and deeply interconnected.

That means cultivating empathy alongside critical thinking. It means teaching students to imagine the world differently — challenging and expanding our geographical imaginations.

And it means schools stepping up. Not with scattered programs or one-off initiatives, but with dedicated leadership. A Director of Global Citizenship can bring it all together — curriculum, culture, community — and make global learning part of everyday life.

This is not a luxury. It is a necessity.

Because the world our students inherit depends on it.

The Inevitable Task of Each of Us: Tony Futura and the Geographies of Consumption

Tony Futura’s The Inevitable Task of Each of Us transforms a familiar object — the shopping cart — into a slide. At first glance, the piece is playful, even absurd: an everyday tool of commerce reimagined as a structure of leisure. But the title pushes us toward a more sobering reading. Shopping, Futura suggests, is no longer simply a choice but an inevitable task, a cycle that structures the rhythms of modern life.

Consumerism as Play and Cage

By bending the shopping cart into a slide, Futura infantilizes the act of consumption. Shopping is sold to us as entertainment — the mall as playground, the supermarket as spectacle — a cultural script where buying becomes fun. Yet the slide also signals inevitability: once you’re on it, you can’t stop midway, you can’t change direction. The ride is thrilling, but it ends not in liberation, only in containment within the cart’s metal grid.

Here the paradox emerges: the consumer is simultaneously free to choose and structurally confined. The cart promises infinite possibility, yet its very design disciplines our behavior. We move down its chute, again and again, in a loop that mirrors the repetitive routines of consumption.

From Citizen to Consumer

This is where the work resonates with one of The Geographical Imaginations Expedition & Institute’s central themes: the tension between citizen and consumer.

Citizenship implies agency — participation in collective decision-making, shaping futures, engaging in public life. Consumption, on the other hand, is framed as obligation. The sculpture’s title, The Inevitable Task of Each of Us, evokes civic duty, but here that duty has been redefined: not to vote, not to deliberate, not to act politically, but to shop.

Neoliberal societies increasingly conflate economic activity with civic participation. To “support the economy” becomes the equivalent of exercising one’s civic voice. Even ethical or “green” consumption is often framed as the highest form of responsibility, placing solutions to systemic crises back onto individual shoppers. In this way, the consumer displaces the citizen as the dominant social identity.

The Geographies of Everyday Life

The shopping cart-slide is more than a clever object; it is a spatial allegory. It directs our attention to the geographies where this shift plays out:

  • Supermarkets: gridded aisles channeling bodies and choices into predictable flows.
  • Shopping malls: privatized public squares where consumer activity stands in for civic engagement.
  • Amazon warehouses and delivery systems: invisible infrastructures sustaining the endless slide of consumption, while erasing the worker’s presence from the consumer’s experience.

These are the landscapes of everyday life in late capitalism — places where our identities are shaped less by citizenship than by our roles as consumers. Futura’s sculpture stages this reality in miniature: we climb, we descend, we repeat.

A Satire of Freedom

The irony, and the sharpness of Futura’s critique, lies in the way the work sells us the illusion of joy. The slide suggests freedom, pleasure, and childlike abandon. But the structure itself — welded from the rigid metal of the cart — reveals that our movement is already scripted. What appears playful is in fact disciplinary.

Here, Jean Baudrillard’s analysis of consumer society comes to mind: objects seduce us with the promise of freedom while quietly binding us within systems of control. Futura captures this paradox with elegance and wit, delivering a sculpture that is at once comic, critical, and unnervingly true.

Conclusion

The Inevitable Task of Each of Us is more than a surreal sculpture; it is a mirror held up to contemporary life. It shows us how the consumer has replaced the citizen, how the slide of consumption has become our daily ritual, and how the very spaces we inhabit — malls, markets, warehouses — reinforce this transformation.

Futura’s brilliance lies in his ability to make this critique both accessible and unsettling. The work seduces with humor but leaves us with unease: are we citizens shaping the world, or merely consumers sliding endlessly through it?

The Bad Bunny Effect

At The Geographical Imagination Expedition & Institute (The GIEI), we have been closely watching what some call “the Bad Bunny effect.” From lyrical storytelling to intricate stagecraft, Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio has emerged as more than a global music star—he is participating in the active re-mapping of Puerto Rico in the cultural imagination. His No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí residency has not merely been a series of performances; it has been a cartographic intervention in the stories told about place, belonging, and identity. But how, exactly, has he been reshaping the geographies of Puerto Rican life and diaspora? And in our own fascination with his work, how might we be over-romanticizing—or oversimplifying—what’s at stake?  Here are some initial thoughts on the matter:

 

1. Reconfiguring Spatial Power — Centro vs. Periferia

By anchoring a world-class residency in Puerto Rico, Bad Bunny has reversed the typical flow of cultural gravity. Instead of chasing audiences to New York, Los Angeles, or Madrid, he has drawn them to San Juan, placing the island—not the metropole—at the symbolic center. This move resists the “periphery” status so often assigned to colonized and semi-colonized territories.

Are we interpreting this as a genuine reversal of spatial hierarchies, or are we projecting a center/periphery binary that still reinforces colonial geographic frames?

 

2. Geopolitical Resistance & Postcolonial Messaging

Through his residency and recent album, Bad Bunny has folded anti-colonial sentiment into mainstream entertainment. Lyrics, visuals, and public statements have taken aim at displacement, gentrification, and the cultural consequences of Puerto Rico’s political status.

To what extent does the residency’s political message genuinely confront U.S.–Puerto Rico colonial dynamics, and to what extent is our reading shaped by a desire for a coherent resistance narrative?

 

3. Cultural Geography through Stagecraft

The residency’s dual-stage design—mountainous rural landscapes on one side, a rooftop “marquesina” party on the other—has materialized memory and everyday Puerto Rican spaces. Chickens, plantain trees, and neighborhood gatherings have all been woven into the concert’s lived geography.

Do these scenic gestures create an authentic sense of place for local audiences, or do they risk aestheticizing and packaging Puerto Rican identity for consumption—even by Puerto Ricans themselves?

 

4. Tourism Reimagined: Economic Catalyst vs. Cultural Colonization

By attracting hundreds of thousands of visitors and generating massive economic returns, the residency has redefined Puerto Rico as a destination for cultural pilgrimage. Yet this influx inevitably reopens questions about who benefits, who is displaced, and how tourism reshapes local economies.

Are we too quick to celebrate this as a model of “community-centered tourism,” and how might we better interrogate the potential reproduction of harmful economic patterns?

 

5. Emotional Cartography: Identity, Memory, and Diaspora

For many Puerto Ricans in the diaspora, the residency has offered a symbolic homecoming, converting spatial absence into embodied presence. The concert has served as both ritual and refuge, a moment to root themselves again in a shared cultural geography.

How do we distinguish between collective emotional resonance and our own analytical romanticism about diasporic return?

 

Remaining in the Map

The No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí residency continues to unfold as both spectacle and spatial project. It has generated new ways of imagining Puerto Rico, reframed the island’s position in global cultural flows, and ignited debates about authenticity, economics, and belonging. Yet our interpretations remain provisional, shaped by the lenses we bring and the geographies we inhabit.

As the residency evolves, so too does the terrain of its meanings. Each performance adds layers to the map—some drawn by Bad Bunny, some by his audiences, and some by those of us trying to read the cartography in motion. The challenge is not to arrive at a final interpretation but to remain attentive to the shifting coordinates, the tensions, and the possibilities they open.

 

Crossing the Abyss: Thomas Merton, the Geographical Imagination, and the Journey of Global Citizenship

In an age marked by technological marvels and unprecedented connectivity, the words of Thomas Merton strike a timeless chord:

What can we gain by sailing to the moon if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves? This is the most important of all voyages of discovery.

With this reflection, Merton challenges the notion that outward achievement—symbolized by space exploration—can substitute for inward awareness. While humanity continues to chart the outer edges of the universe, he reminds us that the deepest and most necessary discoveries lie within. This idea takes on new significance when we consider our understanding of the world through our geographical imaginations and our responsibilities as global citizens.

Geographical Imaginations: How We Know the World

The geographical imagination refers to the ways individuals and societies envision the world and its people—often shaped by culture, history, media, education, and power. It is through this imagination that we form mental maps of distant places, understand global relationships, and develop emotional responses to unfamiliar cultures. However, this process is not neutral. It can be infused with stereotypes, shaped by colonial legacies, or distorted by economic and political agendas.

In Merton’s metaphor, the “abyss” is not just the chasm within the individual but also the gap between how we imagine the world and its complex realities. If we do not reflect critically on how our worldviews are formed, we risk reinforcing systems of misunderstanding and marginalization. Without this introspection, our engagement with other cultures becomes superficial or exploitative, cloaked in curiosity but driven by control.

The Inner Journey and Global Citizenship

To be a global citizen is to recognize one’s interconnectedness with people and places far beyond national borders. It means understanding global systems—environmental, economic, cultural, and political—and acting in ways that promote justice, sustainability, and mutual respect. Yet, as Merton suggests, one cannot truly be a global citizen without first engaging in the inward journey: questioning our assumptions, recognizing our privileges, and becoming aware of the ways we have been shaped by our surroundings.

This inward reflection is not a retreat from the world but a necessary preparation for authentic global engagement. It transforms curiosity into empathy, and knowledge into wisdom. When Merton speaks of the “most important of all voyages of discovery,” he is calling for a kind of consciousness that allows us not only to see the world but to see ourselves in relation to it — as participants, not just observers.

Reframing Exploration

Merton’s critique of the moon landing is not a condemnation of progress, but a call to reframe what it means to explore. The heroic narratives of discovery and conquest—whether of new worlds or new markets—often ignore the inner void that can accompany unchecked ambition. Without a corresponding moral and spiritual evolution, such explorations can deepen divisions and alienation.

The geographical imagination, when rooted in self-awareness, becomes a powerful tool for connection. It allows us to move beyond simplistic images of “the Other” and toward more nuanced understandings of different peoples and places. It helps cultivate a form of global citizenship that is not about possessing knowledge, but about participating in a shared human story.

Bridging the Divide

Thomas Merton’s insight remains urgent today. As we chart paths across continents and into space, we must also chart the terrain of our own consciousness. We must question how we know what we know, and whose voices have been silenced in the stories we tell about the world. The “abyss that separates us from ourselves” is also the distance between surface-level engagement and true global solidarity.

To cross that abyss is to become not just travelers, but pilgrims—seeking not only knowledge of the world, but wisdom in our place within it. It is the most important of all voyages, and one that begins within.

 

The Gulf of _______: Identity, Power, and the Geopolitics of Place Names

What’s in a Name?

Place names carry power. They encode history, assert identity, and reflect political ideologies. The recent proposal to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America,” championed by former and current U.S. President-Elect Donald Trump, has ignited a heated debate. Trump’s comments, framing the name change as a matter of national pride, were met with a mix of support and ridicule domestically. Internationally, the reaction was more pointed, with Mexico’s new President Claudia Sheinbaum humorously suggesting that the United States be renamed “Mexican America” in a nod to historical maps and shared histories. These exchanges highlight how deeply place names intersect with geopolitics and cultural identity.

Here we explore the implications of such a renaming effort, offering insights into why place names matter and how they shape our understanding of the world.

 

Historical Context of Place Naming

Throughout history, the naming and renaming of places have been tools of power. Colonizers often renamed lands to assert control, erasing indigenous identities and histories in the process. For example, during European colonization, places like New Amsterdam became New York, reflecting shifts in political dominance.

Controversies over place names are not new. The dispute over the “Persian Gulf” versus “Arabian Gulf” exemplifies how naming can become a proxy for larger geopolitical tensions. Similarly, the transition from Macedonia to North Macedonia demonstrates the complexities of balancing national identity and international diplomacy. The Gulf of Mexico—a name steeped in centuries of shared history among the United States, Mexico, and Cuba—is now at the center of a similar debate.

 

Cultural and Political Significance of the Gulf of Mexico

The Gulf of Mexico is more than just a body of water. It is a cultural and economic lifeline for the countries that border it. Its name reflects centuries of shared history, from indigenous civilizations to colonial exchanges and modern trade.

Renaming it the “Gulf of America” would not only disregard its historical and cultural significance but also risk alienating Mexico and Cuba, who have long-standing ties to the region. Such a move could be perceived as an assertion of U.S. dominance, undermining the cooperative spirit that has historically governed the Gulf.

 

Geopolitical Implications of Renaming

Unilaterally renaming the Gulf of Mexico has profound geopolitical implications. It risks being seen as a symbolic act of American exceptionalism, reinforcing perceptions of U.S. hegemony in the region. For Mexico and Cuba, the renaming could be interpreted as a disregard for their sovereignty and historical claims to the Gulf.

International recognition of such a change would be another hurdle. Organizations like the United Nations and the International Hydrographic Organization play a critical role in standardizing place names. Without their endorsement, the new name might remain unrecognized on global maps and documents, further complicating its adoption.

 

Identity and Nationalism in Place Names

Place names are powerful markers of identity. The proposed renaming of the Gulf of Mexico reflects a surge in nationalistic sentiment within the United States. By labeling it the “Gulf of America,” proponents aim to assert a distinctly American identity over a shared geographic feature.

However, this approach risks oversimplifying and overwriting the region’s multicultural heritage. Place names are not merely labels; they are narratives. Changing the Gulf’s name would erase layers of history that connect it to indigenous peoples, colonial powers, and neighboring nations.

 

The Politics of Memory

Renaming a place reshapes collective memory. It reframes history in ways that can either unite or divide communities. The Gulf of Mexico’s current name serves as a reminder of the interconnected histories of the U.S., Mexico, and Cuba. Changing it would disrupt this shared narrative, privileging one perspective over others.

The renaming effort also raises questions about whose history is being remembered and whose is being erased. In an era where there is growing awareness of the need to honor diverse narratives, renaming the Gulf may appear tone-deaf and counterproductive.

 

Comparative Case Studies

The global landscape offers numerous examples of contested or successful place renaming efforts that reveal lessons about identity, power, and reconciliation. For instance:

  1. Burma to Myanmar: This renaming reflects an internal governance shift but remains controversial internationally due to its association with a military regime. It underscores the challenges of achieving global consensus on name changes.
  2. Bombay to Mumbai: India’s renaming of Bombay to Mumbai was part of a broader effort to reclaim indigenous identity while navigating the economic and cultural significance tied to its colonial name.
  3. Sea of Japan vs. East Sea: This ongoing dispute between Japan and Korea highlights how unresolved historical grievances can transform place names into geopolitical flashpoints.
  4. Rhodesia to Zimbabwe: A pivotal change that symbolized decolonization and national identity. While celebrated domestically, it required significant international adaptation.
  5. Derry/Londonderry: In Northern Ireland, this dual naming reflects ongoing tensions between different cultural and political groups, showing how renaming can also act as a compromise to acknowledge contested identities.

These cases illustrate the importance of historical accuracy, cultural significance, and diplomacy in managing naming disputes.

 

The Future of Geopolitical Naming in a Globalized World

In a globalized world, naming disputes are likely to increase as nations seek to assert their identities in an interconnected landscape. Digital maps and global communication further complicate these debates, as the visibility of place names takes on greater significance.

The Gulf of Mexico renaming proposal highlights the need for inclusive and diplomatic approaches to such disputes. Rather than imposing a unilateral change, nations must engage in dialogue to find solutions that honor shared histories and foster cooperation.

 

Gulf of ______

The renaming of the Gulf of Mexico—or any prominent geographical feature—is far more than a simple act of rebranding; it is a reflection of deeper power dynamics, historical narratives, and cultural identities. While advocates for the “Gulf of America” name may argue that it asserts national pride, such a change risks sidelining the intricate and shared histories of the region. The Gulf is not merely a U.S. waterway; it is a space of connection, trade, and history among the United States, Mexico, and Cuba.

Critically, this debate reveals how place names serve as both tools of power and repositories of memory. Renaming the Gulf might strengthen certain nationalist narratives, but it could simultaneously erase others, fostering resentment rather than unity. In an interconnected and historically complex region like the Gulf, unilateral actions risk damaging diplomatic relations and disregarding the pluralistic heritage that defines the space.

Ultimately, decisions about renaming geographical features should be approached with caution, sensitivity, and a recognition of the broader implications. Engaging in collaborative, multilateral discussions can help ensure that such changes reflect not only the aspirations of one nation but also the shared histories and futures of all stakeholders. The power of a name lies in its ability to tell a story; in this case, the story of the Gulf of Mexico is one that belongs to many voices, not just one.

 

Does anyone know what this body of water was called before the colonizers arrived?

Bridging Briet

Review of El Pirineo sin Briet 

by Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and Lise Laporte

In 2017, I walked for nearly forty days along the GR-11, the famed Transpirenaica footpath, tracing the Pyrenees on the Spanish side, end-to-end, from Irun to Cap de Creus. Alongside Sonia Ibáñez Pérez, I traversed the Basque Country, Navarre, Aragón, Andorra and Catalonia with the goal of reciprocating the longer five-month walk we completed along my own birthplace mountains–the Appalachians–back in 2013*. We were walking her mountains.  Walks were–and still are–our mode of inquiry, our way of knowing a place–albeit by making mere transect lines through both the complex human and natural landscapes and layers.  

The Transpirenaica walk left me wanting more of the Pyrenees—not just for the physical challenge but for the way it deepened my connection to its landscape and stories. Seven years later, now living in Sobrarbe in Alto Aragón, in the shadow of the Pyrenees and learning Aragonés, I’ve embarked on a new expedition—a deeper dive into the region’s human geographies and how they intersect with its wild beauty.

Reading El Pirineo sin Briet, by geologist Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and cultural expert Lise Laporte, feels like an extension of that journey—a next step in a way of seeing the Pyrenees not just as a place of physical challenge but as a shared cultural and natural treasure. This is a book that transcends time and disciplines. At its heart, it is a celebration of Lucien Briet, the early 20th-century photographer, writer, and explorer whose images and advocacy shaped how the Pyrenees are imagined, experienced, and, most crucially, conserved.

This book is an homage to Briet’s enduring vision, but it is also much more: it is a story of change, both in the landscape and in how we perceive it. It bridges art and science, memory and modernity, and asks us to consider what the Pyrenees mean in an age of unprecedented environmental transformation.

 

Lucien Briet: A Visionary and Advocate

For those, like me, who are relative newcomers to the Pyrenees, Lucien Briet (1860-1921) is both an anchor and a touchstone—a figure whose vision helps us understand the enduring allure of these mountains. Born in Paris, Briet was not merely a traveler but a pireneísta, a passionate student and lover of the Pyrenees. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he ventured deep into the region, capturing its grandeur through thousands of photographs and detailed writings that revealed its cultural and ecological essence.

Briet’s photography opened the Pyrenees to audiences far beyond its summits and valleys, bringing alive a wilderness that might otherwise have remained invisible to ever-growing urban audiences. His artistry framed the mountains as places of significance—spaces deserving not only admiration but protection. Yet Briet’s impact went far beyond the photographic.  His 1913 book, Bellezas del Alto Aragón, chronicled explorations through Ordesa valley, along the Ara river, and into the Mascún canyon and Escoaín gorges, alongside iconic sites like the Peña Montañesa, the Marboré massif, and the Sierra de Guara.

Most notable, Briet was one of the earliest advocates for conservation, recognizing the risks posed by industrial expansion and unchecked tourism. His tireless efforts helped pave the way for the creation of Ordesa y Monte Perdido National Park in 1918—one of Spain’s first protected areas and a living monument to his legacy.

In El Pirineo sin Briet, Belmonte and Laporte center Briet’s work as both a cultural bridge and a moral imperative. They revisit the exact places Briet once photographed, offering not just comparisons but invitations to reflect on what has changed and what remains. By curating Briet’s vision alongside their own contemporary explorations, the authors remind us that landscapes—like heritage—are never static but require our active participation to preserve.

 

The Changing Landscape of the Pyrenees 

At the heart of El Pirineo sin Briet lies an exploration of the sweeping transformations that have shaped the Pyrenees over the past century. Drawing on Ánchel Belmonte’s geological precision and Lise Laporte’s cultural insights, the authors provide a multidimensional portrait of a landscape in flux. Each carefully curated chapter uncovers new layers of adaptation, resilience, and interconnected change.

The Pyrenees: A Stage of Change

The Pyrenees are presented as a dynamic stage where natural forces and human activities intertwine, shaping valleys, peaks, and rivers into evolving narratives. By tracing this interplay, the authors emphasize the mountains’ role as both a witness to and participant in centuries of change.

A Brief Recent Climatic History of the Pyrenees

Climate shifts over the last century have left their mark on the Pyrenees, from subtle changes in temperature to more pronounced shifts in precipitation patterns. These variations ripple through ecosystems, reshaping glaciers, altering vegetation, and redefining rivers. 

The Landscape That [Almost] Doesn’t Change

Some elements of the Pyrenees appear impervious to time—ancient rock formations and ecosystems that have withstood millennia. The juxtaposition of these constants with areas undergoing rapid transformation invites reflection: how long can these enduring features remain untouched in a world of accelerating change?

Summits and Slopes: Spaces of Transition

High-altitude zones of the Pyrenees, where life exists on the edge, emerge as fragile yet revealing spaces. Changes in vegetation creeping higher and signs of erosion accelerating point to the impacts of climate shifts even in these extreme environments.  Photographs of San Nicolás de Bujaruelo capture this convergence of natural and cultural landscapes. The medieval bridge over the Río Ara stands as a timeless testament to human connection with the mountains, inviting a deeper contemplation of the relationship between preservation and transformation.  The Transpirenaica crosses the bridge.  

Rivers: The Great Connectors

Rivers thread through the Pyrenean landscape, linking ecosystems, histories, and communities. Yet, human interventions—damming, sediment transport disruptions, and water management—have altered their flow and meaning. These waterways, once symbols of continuity, now also reflect the layered consequences of human impact.

Glaciers: The Great Change

The retreat of glaciers is portrayed through a powerful pairing of Briet’s stark historical photographs with vivid contemporary images. The resulting contrasts reveal not just loss but the interconnected nature of this transformation, impacting rivers, ecosystems, and cultural identity. Rather than reducing glaciers to symbols of despair, the authors use them to provoke reflection on resilience and responsibility. Their comparative methodology offers visual evidence of environmental change, transcending the oversimplified narratives often found in media discussions **.

 

A Visual and Multidisciplinary Dialogue

The pairing of Lucien Briet’s historical photographs with modern images taken from the same vantage points is one of the book’s triumphs. Belmonte’s precision as a photographer and geologist creates a “temporal map,” offering tangible evidence of change while evoking both awe and concern.   

Lise Laporte complements this with a cultural lens that highlights the significance of heritage and memory. Together, their collaboration transforms the book into more than an academic or artistic exercise—it becomes a meditation on time and place. The inclusion of detailed GPS coordinates invites readers to embark on their own expeditions, underscoring the book’s interactive spirit. This interactivity transforms the book into more than a static artifact—it becomes a guide for readers to engage actively with the Pyrenees, to follow Briet’s footsteps and create their own visual and emotional dialogues.

 

A Shared Geography

For me, El Pirineo sin Briet helps reframe the walk along the Transpirenaica–transporting me back but also beyond simple snapshots taken in 2017. The book visualizes the fact that geological change can happen in 7 years or 100, challenging this human geographer’s misinformed notion that all geomorphology is slow and ultimately fixed on a hard-to-count scale of eternal geological time.  Before this book, I didn’t yet know Lucien Briet, nor did I consider how much the Pyrenees had changed in the heavily industrialized 20th century. Reading this book deepened my understanding of the Pyrenees as a living, breathing landscape—alive with memory, shaped by history, and vulnerable to our choices.

The book’s final chapter, El Pirineo del Futuro (The Pyrenees of Tomorrow), leaves me asking:  In what ways do the historical transformations documented in this book guide future conservation efforts?  How are communities in the Pyrenees already adapting to ongoing changes, and how can their voices shape the region’s future?  What can the Pyrenees teach us about resilience, both ecological and cultural, in the face of global challenges?  Are there ways to reinvigorate sustainable practices that have been abandoned over time, such as traditional agriculture and herding, to harmonize human activity with environmental preservation?  How can the tools of art and storytelling, exemplified by this book, help us to cultivate a deeper, more empathetic relationship with changing landscapes?

The book provides no easy answers because that is not its purpose. The authors give us a map and coordinates and remind us that the exploration—and responsibility—is ours to undertake.

 

A Legacy of Imagination, Action, and Reflection

At its core, El Pirineo sin Briet is both a celebration and a challenge. It celebrates the enduring legacy of Lucien Briet, whose vision of the Pyrenees as spaces of awe, wonder, and significance laid the foundation for their conservation. His photographs and writings transformed the Pyrenees from remote wilderness into cherished cultural and natural heritage. Yet the book goes beyond mere celebration, challenging readers to confront the changing landscapes of the Pyrenees and consider their role in shaping the region’s future.

Belmonte and Laporte use Briet’s work as a foundation to explore the dynamic interplay of memory, change, and responsibility that defines these mountains today. Their ability to blend art and science, emotion and intellect, is one of the book’s greatest achievements. By juxtaposing Briet’s historical photographs with modern imagery, they transform abstract discussions of environmental change into something viscerally tangible: glaciers retreating, vegetation shifting, and rivers reshaped by time and human activity. Belmonte’s geological expertise anchors the narrative with scientific rigor, while Laporte’s cultural reflections infuse the story with historical and emotional depth.

Ultimately, El Pirineo sin Briet is more than a book; it is a time capsule, a scientific treatise, and a call to action. It reminds us of the fragility and beauty of the natural world while challenging us to reflect on our roles in shaping its future. Through Lucien Briet’s lens, Belmonte and Laporte rekindle our connection to the Pyrenees and inspire us to protect its enduring legacy.

As Fernando Pessoa’s epigraph reminds us, “What we see is not made of what we see, but of what we are.” El Pirineo sin Briet invites us to reflect on how landscapes—like the Pyrenees—not only reveal their essence but also shape who we are. In an age of climate uncertainty, there is no greater act of hope than imagining—and preserving—the futures we want for generations to come.

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*For more on the Appalachian Trail, listen to EPISODE TWENTY NINE: A Great American Pilgrimage (March 25, 2017) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing when we explore the 3500 kilometer walk from Maine to Georgia in the Eastern woods of the United States traversing the ridge-line of the oldest mountains in the world, the Appalachians. 

** For more on media representation in the age of climate change, listen to EPISODE FIFTY EIGHT: Poster Bear (November 23, 2019) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing.  This episode is the second part of a two-episode exploration of two polar bears—the one that travels along the ice and the other one that circulates in the media.