Save the Humans

In my freshman college dorm room, I hung a large poster on the tiny sliver of wall directly above my twin-sized bed. In the middle of that stark black poster floated a picture of planet Earth. At the top read the phrase in large white letters, “Save the Humans.” Needless to say, I entered university life as an idealist and wanted to wave my colors, so to speak. That early emphasis on “humans” seems ironic to me now that I have made a career out of trying to “save the planet.” How did I get from point “H” to point “P” anyway?

Like anyone who tries to champion a cause but doesn’t know where to begin, I started by hanging a poster. This wasn’t the only statement I tried to make. I was attracted to anything with a label for a cause. I joined clubs, sported t-shirts, and tagged my car with bumper stickers. My zeal for making a difference spewed all over the place like an unattended water hose, energetic but unfocused, ultimately to be turned off, wound up, and put back in its place by forces stronger than itself. Somewhere between ages 18 and 22, I grew out of my idealism and jumped into the mainstream culture with abandon. By the time I graduated college, helping the humans and saving the sea otters had been replaced by the promise of an exciting adventure in Argentina, to be followed by (I hoped) a successful career.

It was fun to travel, get a job, meet a guy, get married, decorate my apartment, take classes, and do all the things that people do in their 20s. But turning 30 was another matter. Starting a family and rearing children, not to mention building a business and running a household, were entirely different pursuits. Gone were the days of carefree freedom. In other ways this new era called “Responsibility” ushered in a different kind of satisfaction. Having my daughter reignited my enthusiasm for making the world a better place. If it weren’t for her, I may never have gotten back to that part of myself I had ignored for so long. At the same time, that decade away from it was good because it taught me a thing or two about how things really get done.

So I started over again, this time trading in my former idealism for something more like “compassionate realism.” I realized that my best chance to save the world was to focus on a tiny piece of it, particularly one that needed some extra attention. I was learning how problems ranging from world hunger to energy poverty could be addressed through sustainability and conservation. I never saw “saving the planet” as an end in itself so much as a necessary part of the equation. It’s simply my chosen method for helping humanity.

Unfortunately, too many people still think you have to choose between “people” or “the planet.” This disconnect leads to apathy and disbelief in startling evidence (at least to me and hundreds of the world’s foremost scientists). According to the latest national survey by the Pew Research Center, there has been a sharp decline over the past year in the percentage of Americans who see global warming as a very serious problem -- 35% say that today, down from 44% in April 2008. Over the same period, there has been a comparable decline in the proportion of Americans who say global temperatures are rising as a result of human activity, such as burning fossil fuels. Just 36% say that currently, down from 47% last year. What surprises me is not the numbers so much as the “decline” part. With the crisis behind us, we Americans revert to our characteristic resiliency and optimism. These aren’t bad traits, but they aren’t always appropriate, either.

The results of this study demonstrate how critical environmental education is and how much work is still left undone. Environmental stewards in all rungs of society are the necessary change agents to pull people from apathy toward acceptance and engagement. The hardest thing about this work is that only so much if it can be done through posters, bumper stickers, and t-shirts. Only so much of it can be done by wearing our badges and waving our flags. In fact, I’ve since learned that in many cases, these things only work when preaching to the choir. So where is the hidden opportunity? Become a bridge. To affect genuine change, we environmental stewards have to get in the trenches and become educators in our communities, schools, social circles, churches, and workplaces. We have to get into conversation with new people and share the information through a voice of compassion. A little bit of optimism doesn’t hurt, either.

That old paper poster from college is long gone, but today I have a new one – my green house. Besides that and a single bumper sticker on my car, I try to stay away from labels and clubs that brand me as “green.” Instead, I’m finding that the best way to start the “conservation conversation” is through my own actions. It’s like Einstein used to say, “Setting an example is not the main means of influencing another, it is the only means.” No single one of us, apart from God himself, was designed to “Save the Humans.” What we were designed to do is discern our unique calling and live it out to the best of our abilities with as much grace and humility as possible. For someone with designs on changing the world, this may sound trite or even deflating. Nevertheless, it’s the truth that I’ve learned over the past five years. The most significant change you may ever make is right under your own roof, beginning with yourself.

Anna Clark is president of EarthPeople, a sustainability consulting firm. She is an author, speaker, and blogger on green living and leadership. Anna lives in Dallas with her husband and two toddlers in one of the first LEED-certified Platinum residences in Texas. Visit www.annamclark.com for more on all things green.