Woolen Mills

I have called Woolen Mills my home for almost two years. Being one of the oldest neighborhoods in Charlottesville, it was developed with the mill as the center of activity, operating from the mid-1850s to the 1960s. During the Civil War, the Confederacy took ownership of the factory and made soldier uniforms and clothes for enslaved people. Interestingly, the building I live in previously functioned as the Confederacy office. When I hear the floorboards creak or run my fingers along with a nick in the brick wall, I can’t help but imagine someone who hates people of my race being in the same building.

Aside from its dark history, I love this spot because it’s a good mix of nature and industrialization. The Rivanna River is right across the street in front of my house, and the railroad tracks run through my backyard. It’s not rare for me to go on walks along the river and the ground-shaking rumble of an incoming train pulls me back to reality. It’s a perfect balance between peaceful seclusion and urban life. Of course, there are the occasional walkers who are attracted to the area, which is expected. But this balance has been threatened by the city’s proposal to make a pedestrian bridge crossing the section of Rivanna River that penetrates the Historic Woolen Mill area. For one, it will attract a lot more visitors and congestion in a place originally considered a gem for having a tranquil tucked away energy. The bridge would also give the river a look that is obviously touched by man. It’s frustrating to know that my opinion on a matter concerning my home won’t necessarily be heard. And it seems that the building of this bridge will certainly not be the last development in this neighborhood, which is sad too because it will start looking less like a habitat for the animals and more like a business park. The opening poem in Joy Harko’s book “Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings,” reminds me of the importance of the non-human life and how humans often forget that:

"Recognize whose lands these are on which we stand. Ask the deer, turtle, and the crane. Make sure the spirits of these lands are respected and treated with goodwill. The land is a being who remembers everything. You will have to answer to your children, and their children, and theirs— The red shimmer of remembering will compel you up the night to walk the perimeter of truth for understanding."

It’s so easy to forget that life doesn’t revolve around humans. Opening my window and listening to bird songs, the wind, and the faint sound of an owl helped me remember that. And when it comes to relationality, we are the ones who cannot exist without our relatives. While nature can live without humans, humans can’t live without nature.