As we celebrate the first anniversary of The Conservation Fund’s blog this week, we express our deep gratitude to our many contributors—invaluable partners, thoughtful donors, brilliant colleagues and members of our Board, and so many more. Your compelling and often highly personal contributions have eloquently conveyed an astounding array of experiences in taking conservation to new realms. You are truly “redefining conservation,” which is the animating theme of the Fund’s blog.
So, how actually do we redefine conservation? After all, the term has a pretty solid and generally accepted meaning. According to Merriam-Webster, conservation is defined as “the protection of animals, plants, and natural resources” and “the careful use of natural resources… to prevent them from being lost or wasted.”
Sounds right. Similarly, the wording of statutes, laws and carefully crafted mission statements reflect this widely accepted definition, often in reverential tones about the necessity to ensure that historic and iconic places are—rightly!—protected for all generations.
Yet it is also a term that is increasingly being expressed in many new forms of interpretation. It seems to me that conservation is being redefined mainly because more people are participating in it. Today, in a growing and increasingly diverse country, conservation is becoming more embedded into our daily lives. Our choices as consumers, our use of water and energy, the vibrancy of our neighborhoods and communities, and even our recovery from natural catastrophes are all connected to our handling of natural resources.
To me, redefining conservation also often means engaging people who would never consider themselves defined by the term “conservationist.” They are simply doing what makes sense to them—not only for themselves and their communities, but also for an intuitive understanding of the natural systems that offer prosperity.
Communities are filled with conservationists, like this team working in Atlanta to create the Lindsay Street Park. Photo by Whitney Flanagan.
Experiencing the Fund’s work first-hand has underscored for me how conservation is becoming an essential ingredient when communities are thinking about and acting on how to advance economic vitality while reducing the wear and tear on their surroundings.
A few scenes come to mind. In Transylvania County, North Carolina, many diverse leaders and county citizens convened for three intensive days to address a common purpose: how to harness their abundant natural resources to advance their economy. The group came up with a brilliant path forward, with facilitation by our Conservation Leadership Network staff. But when the final wrap-up session arrived, a kind of semi-panic set in. It was the realization that everyone present would disperse, go back to focus on their day jobs, and that the arduous work of the past days would evaporate. They came close to passing the hat to hire someone to keep everyone in touch and thus keep the momentum going. They indeed found a way and today the county is actively pursuing its comprehensive plan. Impressive.
Conservation leads the way to so many ancillary—and at times, unanticipated—benefits. In Atlanta, Lindsay Street Park is a place that’s transformed a neighborhood by becoming a place to gather, for children to play, and to finally stem devastating local flooding. Designed by the community, the Fund helped out at critical points, and today Lindsay Street Park is the centerpiece of a proud neighborhood.
Lindsay Street Park. Photo by Whitney Flanagan.
In West Virginia, our local partners and CSX regularly delivered fresh produce to isolated communities with high levels of obesity and poverty. Admirable for health, but what about conservation? The farmers who produced all this bounty are practicing much more efficient and sustainable agricultural practices.
CSX and The Conservation Fund have teamed up to promote healthy eating habits and increased access to local produce for hundreds of children and families in West Virginia. Photo by Ezra Gregg.
South of Denver, speeding down I-25, you might expect the usual smattering of haphazard businesses lining the highway. Instead, the vista for miles is one of unbroken land—working ranches where instead you can spot bighorn sheep and pronghorn antelope. While visiting my colleague Sydney Macy—the architect of the I-25 Conservation Corridor Project—she deliberately slowed her car as we crossed a slight rise. Seeing my reaction to the ocean of rooftops stretching to the horizon, she simply said, “County line.” Again, communities make choices that redefine our relationship to our lands.
Drive along Interstate 25 from Denver to Colorado Springs, and you’ll see some of the West’s most colorful scenery through your window. Photo by Whitney Flanagan.
Not one of these examples (and hundreds more involving the Fund) came about easily. They involved difficult conversations, respect for differing points of view, ability to navigate impasses and more. But a tendency to conserve what is essential to us is deeply embedded in all of us and often can lead to pathways for good solutions.
This year’s celebration of the National Park Service centennial has been an enormous success—reminding us to appreciate our shared treasure of protected, often majestic places. Outside those park boundaries, conservation is also alive and well. We invite you to participate more in conservation, and to join the many voices on our blog to share your thoughts and experiences in redefining conservation.
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