Poon Watchara-Amphaiwan

I wouldn’t blame you if sometimes you feel disheartened these days, but several stories in this issue point to new beginnings. And our cover story -- by contributing editor Laura Wright Treadway -- is about a revolution that is starting from scratch.

Maybe you know this already, but 82,000 chemicals are now loose in our environment -- in toys and clothes, furniture and appliances -- and only a tiny percentage has been tested for safety. Only five have ever been pulled off the market. Each one of us has traces in our blood of several hundred synthetic chemicals, and mounting evidence suggests that many of them are dangerous to our health. You may have heard, for instance, about BPA, an endocrine-disrupting chemical, and about phthalates, which decrease the production of testosterone in boys in utero. We desperately need a stronger law than the one we have -- the laughably weak Toxic Substances Control Act. But many chemists (and businesses) want nothing less than an entirely new way of creating chemicals that are designed from inception not to do us harm. Wright Treadway visited the University of California, Berkeley, the nation’s most prestigious training ground for chemists, where the newly opened Center for Green Chemistry is teaching the scientists building tomorrow’s new molecules a lesson no one previously bothered to offer them: how to make things that won’t kill us.

Detroit, having lost 60 percent of its population since 1950, is the incredible shrinking city. Entire neighborhoods have been abandoned; urban farms have sprouted in empty lots; soaring edifices of industry stand barren like Roman ruins, overgrown with grass and weeds. With fewer residents and a smaller tax base, the city struggles to provide basic services such as police, fire, and sanitation to sparsely populated areas. Now Detroit has initiated a bold, public conversation that will ultimately redefine its boundaries, its people, and its future. As writer Matthew Power and photographer Andrew Moore discovered, therein lies great opportunity. What could rise from the apparent bleakness is a phoenix of urban vitality: denser, bustling neighborhoods, efficient transportation, gardens -- all the components of what’s come to be called smart growth.

Could we even dare to imagine a new beginning for Haiti, the most impoverished nation in the Western Hemisphere? Author Jacques Leslie and photographer Lynn Johnson remind us that the origin of many of that country’s woes can be traced to deforestation. The loss of trees erodes the soil, which makes flooding worse yet leaves rivers dry and fields parched. The land yields less food, and mothers and children suffer malnourishment. Rural populations flow into urban ghettos. More trees are cut down for charcoal to provide fuel. Yet against this despairing backdrop, innovative projects to reforest Haiti offer the glimpse of a fresh start: planting millions of trees -- trees of life -- that bear fruit, renourish the land, offer a sustainable livelihood, and feed the people.

These stories suggest that out of chaos or decline solutions can arise: even from broken pavement and desiccated land, it’s possible for the green shoots of novel ideas and new promise to emerge.