The interdisciplinary course examines the cultural origins of attitudes toward nature and how those views shape our treatment of it. We also discuss ecosystem services, urban heat islands, agriculture and the mental health benefits of being outdoors.

It’s clear that no human is detached from nature and natural processes. Anyone discovering the mysterious appearance of facial wrinkles knows this! The question is how to find a mutually beneficial relationship between humans and nature.

Studies show that the average human belly button harbors 67 species of bacteria. They are living there, on you! You’re literally bedfellows with these critters.

I’m not making this up. Check out the peer-reviewed article housed in the National Library of Medicine. Perhaps working a little more soap into that belly button next time you’re in the shower will now take on added urgency. Alas, this effort would be futile, as that same article notes that “the skin of an average human houses trillions of individual bacteria representing hundreds or even thousands of phylotypes,” aka, species. Imagine, trillions! Talk about scientific oversharing.

Students are not always pleased to learn they are trillionaires of a certain sort. But they certainly find such conversations intriguing — if not a little alarming — because they’re used to thinking of humans and nature as separate. Challenging that notion can lead to responses like those found at the supermarket, when one’s groceries get too close to another person’s at checkout. Clunk goes the checkout divider. My groceries / your groceries. We are NOT together.

Historically, movements such as the industrial revolution in Europe and the U.S. amplified the notion that nature was just a commodity to be exploited in service of humans. But indigenous peoples from around the globe knew this approach was short-sighted, realizing that respecting nature is essential for human survival.

Globally, the Rights of Nature movement reflects the rethinking of laws in communities, cities and countries. In fact, rivers, mountains and entire regions are gaining legal personhood status — meaning they own themselves.

Understanding this concept was challenging for me. Don’t we own land and everything on it? But the idea made sense: humans should consider the needs of nature in addition to their own desires.

To tell this story, in 2018, I worked with an Argentine lawyer, María Valeria Berros, and WSU grad Issac Goeckeritz, an Emmy-winning filmmaker, to co-produce the documentary film “The Rights of Nature: A Global Movement.” People are interested: We have almost 500,000 YouTube views (it’s free) and have held screenings all around the world, including last week in Puerto Rico.

Such work falls into an academic discipline known as the environmental humanities. At WSU, the Telitha E. Lindquist College of Arts & Humanities offers students multiple opportunities to expand their perspectives via work in this area.

In addition to General Education offerings, in the theatre program, professor Francesca Mintowt-Czyz works with students to reuse and restore old clothing to keep it out of landfills.

English professor Ukamaka Olisakwe offers a literature and film class exploring the connections between food, identity, memory and storytelling.

English professor Sunni Wilkinson and art professor Kellie Bornhoft offer a course in art, poetry and Great Salt Lake to give students a chance to learn about the issues facing the lake and their own connection to it.

Other courses, projects, exhibitions and performances speak to such topics. Classes that make us aware of the beneficial reciprocity between humans and the natural world are of special value today.

Even so, “environmental” can be a hot-button word. But I have yet to meet a person, regardless of political persuasion, enthusiastic about increasing air or water pollution. Those suffering breathing problems or asthma attacks during northern Utah’s wintertime inversions or during summer ground-level ozone pollution events know there’s no level of “safe” air pollution.

Recent efforts at the federal level seek to roll back decades’ worth of progress on improving air and water quality. It’s another reason why supporting unbiased university research is essential: We need informed policy that helps maintain a healthy environment.

Supporting statewide and national humanities programs that facilitate text-, film- or arts-based storytelling is also vital. Stories are the social glue connecting people to nature as they help individuals realize their role in conservation and stewardship.

At WSU, environmental humanities courses offer opportunities to restore and protect nature, including much often taken for granted: the hum of bees, birdsong, clean air.

This Easter week is a good time to reflect on how universities equip students with the tools to identify problems, write and talk about them, and seek solutions that benefit all of us: people, plants, insects, animals.

And yes, even belly button bacteria, which help researchers understand how other species thrive in hostile environments.

Hal Crimmel is a Brady Presidential Distinguished Professor of English who served for nine years as chair of the English department at Weber State University. He currently serves as the academic director of Concurrent Enrollment. This commentary is provided through a partnership with Weber State. The views expressed by the author do not necessarily represent the institutional values or positions of the university.