Remembering Bill Burch

Dear Bill,
Sorry I missed your departure. I’m trying to catch up.

I never really had a chance to tell you about your impact on my life.

We were only connected directly for a year. Indirectly, since that year. It was 1985 at Yale.

When I asked to have you as my advisor, you somehow agreed; I still have no idea why.

You seemed like an iron bar, smelted and hammered into something immensely strong, and stronger with every blow of the blacksmith’s hammer. Unbending. Resistant. Resilient.

Your office looked like the result of an explosion in a tiny library. I related. The door was crowded with cartoons and postcards. I added this cartoon.

Inning	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	Final
Idealists	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	1
Realists	3	2	5	1	3	4	6	2	1	0

 

 

You implied: Question authority. Question traditional wisdom. Question the norm. If everyone agrees, be especially skeptical and cautious. One of the concepts that I took with me was that of ‘trained incapacities’. I have come back to that again and again. My own and others.
I took a group of young grade school kids to visit a national forest in Mali. Several days later I got some drawings back as a gesture of thanks. Many of them had captions which read “thanks for the sticks”. National Forest Management 101 never talked about the importance of sticks. I think you would have liked that.

A party at your house became a bit raucous. We were obliged to put our baby, several months old, sleeping in spite of the noise, behind the couch so the she won’t get stepped on.

Most of all you treated me as a peer. In educational settings this was new to me. You treated me like an equal and as if I had something to offer. You put me on the spot. To value my experience. It was something of a revelation.

So, off you are then, for a hike in the ancient and somber woods of New England. Out for the long walk. The woods are “lovely, dark and deep” and I know whose they are. I envy you. You have no plans, no fixed path, but that has never bothered you, and bothers you not, now. You have the sun at your back and enough water for eternity. You will not look back, but we will shortly join you. Until then we have insignificant and petty “promises to keep”. But we have also a bit of your guidance to help us.

Rereading Daydreams and Nightmares! So prescient and poetic. Sadly understood back then. But this is now. Somehow, with humor and intellect, our species might endure.

Ever since my undergraduate days, I have been on an upward trajectory of becoming more holistic in my work. As an UG, I learned about systems thinking and thought that was holistic. But when I got to Yale and had Bill as my masters advisor, I learned about the power of combining social science data with natural science data and that greatly expanded my concept of holistic approaches. Furthermore, I warmly recall how Bill treated the Ecosystem Management double course as if we were a consultant team carrying out a project. As I would eventually become a consultant, among other pursuits, I greatly appreciated that emphasis that Bill gave to us. Last, my profession has largely focused on protected area management and Bill´s influence both through TRI (which I used to carry out my master´s project in Ecuador and for whose journal I was a student editor) and his work in protected areas helped to build that strong foundation for me. In sum, I am endebted to his style, approach, and care for my growth. Thank you, Bill and wishing your future journey also continues on an upward spiral of increased wisdom and consciousness.

On October 19 the Simonovs took “William Burch Memorial Bushwalk” at Mulligan Flats Nature Reserve in Australian Capital Territory, but contrary to expectations for Saturday evening, it was difficult to observe humans, as would be the most proper for this occasion. So we observed plentiful wildlife: roos, wallabies, cockatoos, choughs, bettongs, echidnas, currawongs and more. I believe that despite low occurrence of his favorite species, Bill would be happy to join us in this wonderful place…
The main thing Bill taught us was to be passionate about what You are doing. His best public lectures were like splendid sermons, that are still echoing in Sage Hall and in my heart. He taught me that, whether I like it or not, the main species I am working on as conservationist is Homo sapiens. And that I have to find my own ways to observe the creature’s behavior and change its ways.
This path was tough to follow from the start and remains tough after thirty-three of walking along it… But Burch students continue pressing forward all around the world.

As a classmate put it after one of his lectures: “Burch is like jazz. Not for everybody.” But for those of us who were tuned in, his teaching opened a lot of doors…

I remember hearing him speak for the first time in Bowers during course shopping and he just blew us away. Striding up in full denim with the bolo tie: “if you can’t solve problems in your own backyard well then what the hell are you doing traveling all over the world telling people what to do?” then dropping the mic with a little wink.

Then I read Daydreams and Nightmares.

Of the many wise teachings he imparted I remember perhaps best the idea that quantitative information is actually way more abstract than thick description but “hard data” rules the world so you better figure out how to deal with it.

Other nuggets: “don’t let the bureaucrats kill your writing!” “once silviculture is really the problem then you’ll have solved the more important stuff,” “keep the light shining under the rocks and in the upper canopy,” and “remember to watch the sunset.”

Miss you Bill but you are all over the place forever!

My wife and I just returned from taking a walk in memory of Bill Burch. She had to endure a half-hour of my reminiscences. Here, I’ll just note that Burch’s Social Ecology was one of those rare and remarkable courses that leave you with a whole new way to think about the world. The concepts learned there about the relations between people and natural resources have never grown old. Thank you, Bill.

Bill was one of our class, and perhaps crazier than the whole lot of the Class of 80. Bill shined on field trips. We spent wonderous, spirit-filled, educational time in Puerto Rico, throughout the western US and other places. While on the western field trip, Bill and I left the hostile for an evening on the town. We figured we would waltz back in even though it was after curfew, but that was not to be. We resorted to scaling the walls of this several story, classic sandstone building to attempt access. Bill missed a beat, falling at least a story and needed stitches in his chin. We went to the emergency room (no idea how we got there) and the ER Doc was amused. Upon learning Bill was a Yale Prof, he thought it entertaining to give Bill Yale blue stitches. He looked sporting!

As a former student and forever mentee of Bill’s I already miss him and am so grateful for the way he pushed and challenged me like no other. He literally changed the way I saw the world, and as a photographer that is a big deal. He helped shape my own understanding of what it means to teach by doing and to center the community’s voices and perspectives in our work. He often left me scratching my head, reading articles about fractals, great white shark behavior and the boom and bust of mining towns. He expected me and my fellows students to connect the dots and to struggle with it as essential to the learning journey. There was a rigorous chaos to his pedagogy.

He taught me that the best way is not always the fastest or most direct, driving country roads when we could have taken the highway. The journey is the destination.

I hope in some small way I can continue his loving, rebellious and community-based legacy to creating change in the world.

Many memories of Bill Burch flood by. But the very first was being called “Mikols” by a professor the first day of class. Having come from public high school and a state university, i hadn’t been privy to the tradition of calling one another by last name. The first of many lessons learned at Yale, from Bill and others.

Fondly,
Liz

We walked and laughed along a branch of the Penobscot two falls ago, after a class reunion at Myers. We were planning a road trip to the Baja peninsula this winter. Bill wanted to drive his old Ford pickup out west, and down south, to celebrate the birth of gray whales. He hadn’t replied to my last email on July 11. Having just learned of his passing, I’m deeply saddened and grateful. Professor Burch inspires loving life and learning to its fullest. Feeling fortunate to swim among his offspring.

Dear Bill:
Was so excited when we spoke and emailed last spring. An old-fashioned road trip in your F-150. Down to Yuma and across the border to Baja. Land of old expat gringos! You’ll be riding on my shoulder, as always.
Love,
Roger

So many memories of Bill: his teaching, his mentoring and his spirit.

One is from his teaching style – I recall the excitement of being in his advanced methods class and the attendant confusion when our first fieldwork was to conduct an observational study at the Yale Center for British Art. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, nor why. Classic Bill. He pushed us off our certainty and allowed us, encouraged us, to think, consider, flail and, finally, learn. As I sat for hours watching people wander through the galleries I began to grasp the basics of observational study. Not by reading about it or hearing a lecture about it, but by doing it it, and only later debriefing and considering alongside Bill. What a method of learning!

Another memory is his mentoring – as I talked through an aspect of my thesis. My idea was to base my work in the lived experience of local residents. Could I really start my thesis with stories of people in the neighborhoods? Bill cocked his head: how could I not?

And finally, his personal style. He led with love. And one of so many memories is him walking into my room at Yale New Haven Hospital, hours after my first child was born, with a huge smile, and my son’s first book in his hand. Because Bill showed up for all the special moments.

May his memory be a blessing.
Leigh Shemitz

I am Hironori Kamemoto, DFES 1997. I was shocked and saddened to hear of Professor Bill Birch’s passing. It made me realize that 30 years have passed since then, and both Bill and I have grown older.

Bill was the primary supervisor of my doctoral thesis. His strong guidance, warm smile, and special wink encouraged me to overcome the difficult times. I fondly remember how he used to invite students from all over the world to his home in the woods, where his wife would serve delicious meals and we would enjoy wonderful times together.

I still cherish the words he said to me when I returned to Japan in 1997 to work as an environmental consultant: “How are you planning to build your business with the community at its center? Think about it carefully. Good luck!”

By practicing Bill’s teaching of placing the community at the center of my business, I have had many wonderful encounters. I have also been able to contribute to spreading best practices among various stakeholders in the communities related to the environment—ordinary citizens, victims, practitioners, scholars, and government officials alike.

I pray for the peaceful repose of Professor Bill Birch.

In this photograph, Bill is wearing a yakwool jacket from Bhutan. I remember very clearly the joy I felt when I first met Bill. He understood the Bhutanese values and it felt like I was meeting a family member.

A decade ago, Professor Tim Gregoire introduced me to Bill. I also worked for the Urban Resources Initiative that he founded. When I returned home, the work experience helped me develop urban landscapes and build the National Service program to engage youths and work with communities. I am grateful for the opportunities he created for people like me who came from the Himalayas.

Today a few of us Yalies in Bhutan offered butter lamps in memory of Bill. He shall always be remembered as a true friend of Bhutan.

Bill was a phenomenon, a giant – such a creative, passionate, and dedicated mentor to all those who, like me, were lucky enough to be his students. He had a great influence on how I view the world, through the socio-ecological lens that he developed and refined throughout his career. He will be dearly missed.

I PRAY GOD LET BILL BURCHS SOUL REST IN PEACE

Bill Burch was the most important influence on me during my time at the School. He was challenging, inspiring, insightful, supportive, funny, surprising, demanding. He taught me how to evaluate situations and make decisions in the inevitable reality of inadequate information – the actual context for any real world policy-making. He taught me the importance of considering the entire system, including is human and ‘natural’ elements. In a ongoing career in environmental policy and land conservation, I took Bill’s insights and lessons with me to help legisaltors form policies and land trusts to develop the concept of a more holistic community conservation. Whatever I have been able to accomplish, I owe it to Bill Burch. Thank you, Bill, with gratitude
PS I treasure the memory of the festschrift the school held for Bill (in ??). My best school friends joined together to sing Bill a song courtesy of Phil Hoose to the tune of “What a Day for a Daydream”. It opened with this verse:
“What a day for a festschrift.
What a flat-out festschriftin’ day.

And even if no one has a blasted clue
Just what the word means and what we’re s’posed to do
It’s some kind of party and so here we be
If it works for Burch well then it works for me.

The rest is (fortunately?) lost to history. Bill loved it.

When I came to Yale FES in 1982 to study for an MF degree with a strong interest in tropical forestry, I was assigned an adviser by the School. But then I met Bill Burch and soon, he became my adviser and also something like my “guru”. Bill was the only professor focusing on people and not only on trees. And he was not only a great professor, teaching us to think out of the box, but also a great person. I had the pleasure to work for him as a research assistant for a little while after graduating and to housesit in his beautiful house on the lake. At the time, community forestry was the big thing and his teachings and the discussions he had with students on this subject were incredibly inspiring and stimulating. The many things I learned from him helped me to have a successful career in international forestry, working in many countries of the world. I was hoping to meet him again at reunion this year to say thank you, but alas, he left us too early.

Bill Burch will always be one of the most inspiring human beings I have ever met, I still quote him very often in my life and work and try to use what he taught me in his class

Bill was my faculty advisor at Yale, guiding me through the highs and lows of graduate science education. I will forever appreciate his good nature, patience and wise counsel. I will always be grateful for his steady guidance and support.

I was introduced to Bill by Prof. Tim Gregoire in 2011/2012 and have stayed in touch with him since then. He was always supportive of my work and would occasionally email me to check in on what I was doing. Bill once wrote in one of his emails while discussing his work, which stuck with me: “Mutual learning and cross-discipline work can be effective with patience and humility.” Reflecting on this today, hearing of his passing, reminds me to strive for this in my work life. Bill, you will be missed, but I am glad you led an impactful life, touching the lives of all those who came into contact with you.

Rest in peace, Prof. Bill Burch.

It is time to (again) dig out my well worn copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, one of 4 books I think Dr. Burch assigned between a Tuesday and Thursday class. He influenced so many of us tree huggers and tree cutters to see and appreciate the world from every perspective.

Brilliant teacher, mentor, friend.

To fondest memories — and a big scoop of coconut ice cream.

I have memories I would like to share. I remember giving a presentation in Bill’s class about readings from Karl Marx and Aldo Leopold. I remember watching Bill and thought “oh well I guess I really botched this analysis.” In fact, it was the opposite I completely mis-read his facial expressions. His intensity at the time was simply a way of him connecting to what I was saying. I will not forget that moment. I also remember Bill visiting me when I first worked at the Tulalip Tribes. He was just really excited about someone he taught working for a Tribe. That gave me comfort. May his memorial be eternal.

I was a one year MEM candidate, trying to finish a book on social research for conservation. I took a one credit course with Bill to work on the book. He totally transformed it with his incisive advice and experience. In those few hours I learned so much. Thank you Bill!