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Renwu is a part of Kaohsiung City, Taiwan, where there are large factories making chemical products. Renwu Elementary School is very close to these factories, just 500 meters away. The school has been actively engaged in discussions about how to improve the environment and promote prosperity for everyone. Approximately 80% of the students at the school have asthma, a respiratory condition. Recognizing the challenges of improving the environment around the school, some students and teachers decided to explore ways to improve the air quality within the school. The students did a few things: first, they used low-cost sensors and single-board computers to make regular air purifiers work better. When levels for air pollution (PM 10 and PM 2.5) are high, these gadgets turn on the air purifiers in many classrooms. This air purifier project is one of three ongoing educational programs aimed at educating students about air pollution and its potential health impacts. In art class, students use paper mache to design their own air purifiers to save money. Using magnifying glasses for tablets and smartphones, they explore which materials work best for air filtration. In parallel, they began collecting air pollution data over time using a digital system developed by the students themselves. They also used hand-held monitors outside to measure pollution levels around a major chemical factory operated by Formosa Plastics, a large petrochemical company. It is worth noting that Formosa Plastics is currently planning to expand its production facilities in Texas and Louisiana, which would also affect air quality in nearby schools. The monitoring and data collection by the Renwu students could inspire others in different places to do something similar about air pollution in their own communities. 

Schütz, Tim, Jia-An Lin & Yu-Hsin Hsu. 2023. "DIY Air Monitoring at Renwu Elementary School in Kaohsiung, Taiwan." In 4S Paraconference X EiJ: Building a Global Record, curated by Misria Shaik Ali, Kim Fortun, Phillip Baum and Prerna Srigyan. Annual Meeting of the Society of Social Studies of Science. Honolulu, Hawai'i, Nov 8-11.

In the interview with Emily Roehl, artist Steve Rowell describes his style in contrast to the more "didactic" approach of land use and documentary photography. Instead, he has come to combine his visual works with sound installations that are meant to unsettle. These sounds are often generated based on air pollution data that he has collected (Roehl and Rowell, 2022, p. 137). Rowell further describes how changes in the development of aerial video and photography technology have shaped his work. In the past, Rowell would rent expensive camera equipment and attach them to a helicopter to generate fly-over images (Roehl and Rowell, 2022, p. 140). Though commercial drones have become available, Rowell says that he soon got dissatisfied with the "slick" images they produce. When using drones, Rowell relies on an angle that faces down or is close-up, creating feelings of uncanniness. These unusual perspectives are combined with split imagery and mirroring to achieve a specific effect: “There’s a value in giving the viewer/listener a chance to distrust the work in the same way there’s value in giving them room to question the work. The landscapes I feature are all altered. What landscape isn’t now? That’s the point.” (Roehl and Rowell, 2022, p. 140).

Steve Rowell is an educator and research artist, currently working on “long-term projects that use image, sound, and archival practice to interrogate the relationship between humans, industry, and the environment” (Roehl and Rowell, 2022, p. 136). Rowell has worked extensively with the Center for Land Use Interpretation (CLUI) in Los Angeles, including a comissioned project for which he photographed every petrochemical plant in Texas (ibid, p. 137). In subsequent projects, he has focused on tracing pipelines going from the Alberta Tar Sands to petrochemical communities in Long Beach, California and Port Arthur, Texas. Another recent project focuses on the industrial ecology of Houston's Buffalo Bayou. 

Pb. Atomic Number 82. 

Divorced from its placement on the periodic table, the element finds itself exposed in a garden, nestled between bioretention and a bus depot. 

Researchers came into to town and made the lead in the soil ledgible and knowable. Soil was tested and this dirt pile was labeled a hot spot. The soil, through analysis in a lab, became suddently differentiatiated from it's environment.  Speculation on the origins of now changed earth ran rampant. Yes, the lead is a chemical legacy, but from where or from whom? Perhaps a long shuttered paint store was dumping its expired wares behind a shop. The chemical legacy proves persistant, but its origin story has degrated with time. Would there be any purpose to tracking the origin of the spot? Are there even actors to hold accountable? Should resources be spent to remediate the small environmental harms when others lurk that are larger in scale in and in affect?

While we ponder, the site is marked by a material more durable than our more human legacies. A concrete marker, or bench (depending on your tolerance for risk), tells a visitor of a history bound the earth. To intervene, the site is covered with dirt, a sign cautions the curious to resist the urge to disturb. To remediate this spot would take time, money, and expertise when all those resources are in short supply. Instead, the area is stewarded to make visible its contents. A delightfully perverse cue to care, inviting disuse and intentional avoidance. Let the earth lie.