It is abut 9 p.m. and I am sitting below Horseshoe Glacier, taking in the wall of mountains in front of me. It is wider than I can see, but the closer forest is lined with spruce trees, and I can hear the constant flow of glacier-melted streams running down the rock face into the base of the drainage. Surrounded by these wonderful people, completing our observations or drawings for the day in our journals, I feel calm, content, and hopeful for the future. However, I did not always feel this way.
Before this course, my experience with environmental issues included more broad courses, news articles that I would read on my own, or brief conversations with friends or family that I never let go on too long because “I didn’t want to think about it.” Everything felt so heavy and overwhelming. I got stuck in loops, starting with hearing about the Anthropocene, the sixth mass extinction, another time, funding cuts to environmental sectors, and impacts on all Earth systems, then linking an article and writing (or panicking) about it in my journal or Notes app titled “Rant.” I rarely let people know what I was thinking or feeling, and on the occasion I did open about about these social and environmental concerns, it often ended with an “it’s up to your generation,” leaving me with even more anxiety about the current state of the world. I did not know where to start.
However, not knowing the impact it would have on me, one of the actions I did take was signing up for this Conservation Across Boundaries course. Reflecting now, four weeks in, nobody could have explained to me how impactful this opportunity would be.
In the second section of this course, one of our readings discussed the term “radical hope,” which has really stuck with me. To me, radical hope gives a way to continue moving forward despite feeling like so many things around me are moving backwards. It unites people, builds connection out of anger, sadness, and shared values—not to get rid of or ignore any eco-grief, but to refocus energy into what can be done, and remind people that they’re not alone. A deep love for places and communities helps this hope be grounded or regrounded, and motivates for the action that comes next. Though I was not fully aware of this term from the start of this program, there have been many instances where I believe I have felt this hope become instilled. I will reflect on a few of them here:
Nearly halfway through, we met with Emilie Brien, who works for the Nature Conservancy of Canada. We spent the whole day with her, as she brought us to different sites, explaining her role meeting with stakeholders, promoting conservation easements, wildlife corridor fencing and underpass installation sites, and native prairie restoration and research. It was very informative to hear about the many environmental initiatives taking place in the area, from citizen science projects and collaboration with Indigenous Nations, to biological monitoring angles. Despite development, wildlife crossings are proving to be effective ways for humans and animals to coexist, while decreasing habitat fragmentation. Additionally, important questions are being answered, as we saw successful growth of wild rose and cinquefoil to replace an old gravel road. This work is inspiring to me. Towards the end of the day, when asked what is one of the biggest lessons she has learned through her work, Emilie answered that conservation is complex, slow, and requires patience. Even when experiments aren’t conclusive, or there are fluxes in funding, people are still putting in work that contributes to long-term progress. She also shared of her confidence in this generation to continue working towards a better future, as she has seen with the care for social-ecological issues, and motivation for change she sees in her younger colleagues and groups she meets with. I think I am starting to believe in us, too.
More recently, we met with members of the Elk River Alliance (ERA) and Stella Swanson, who along with her partner Les, graciously host WRFI students at their property each year. Chad, Caitlin, and Finley from ERA all shared about their role in the monitoring collaborative and the International Joint Commission. It was exciting to see these transboundary roles, and that few of them had a direct path into conservation work. All of their educational and volunteer organization projects helped me realize the recent progress in conservation, and excites me for the future, as collaboration across groups, jurisdictions, and boundaries has improved majorly. Additionally, when Stella was asked about what helps her maintain hope, she replied, “it is the progress we have made despite ups and downs in policy” that keeps her going. She also reminds us that even when things seem to be at their worst, protests and grassroots movements are still taking place, or are getting started, giving people community to join hands with, and making it even more apparent that there are others who care. That is uniting in and of itself.
Lastly, I’d like to reflect on the community I’ve found within WRFI. Coming from various backgrounds, places, and areas of study, we bring so many different perspectives, strengths, and experiences to our discussions. Instructors and classmates, who are now friends, share stories and current projects being worked on simultaneously with everything else that seems to dominate news headlines. People share songs, podcasts, poems, humor, and drawings that make all of the emotions around environmental issues feel less isolating. These spaces, support, and just the people themselves give me hope. I’ve realized that the consistent sharing of ideas helps me feel immensely more connected to the issues I care about, making processing emotions and thoughts on them more manageable, and widening my understanding of them.
For a while now, I’ve felt that no matter where I end up, or what I end up doing, I need to contribute personal actions to deep-rooted, complex, social-ecological issues. And now that feels so much more possible. Through WRFI, I have learned what some of those possibilities may be, and the importance of passion, collaboration, and connection to each one. My hope may still fluctuate, but this community, action, and long term goals now feel less separate. I am so grateful for this experience, the sharing of ideas, and these people for giving me this radical hope now, and into the future.
