With apologies to Max, the central character in Maurice Sendak’s 1963 classic Where The Wild Things Are, and his arduous journey “in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room”, Alice the Moose puts his to shame. Alice left her home park in the Adirondacks in upstate New York, swam across the St. Lawrence river, somehow made it across the four-lane 401 highway and finally completed her 570 km-long journey by arriving in Ontario’s Algonquin Park. Talk about a wild trip!

Alice was just doing what comes naturally – migrating with the seasons, in search of safer grounds and more plentiful sources of nourishment. And not just Alice. Lots of other animals. Thousands of different species of animals in every glorious manifestation have been migrating through what’s now known as the ‘Algonquin to Adirondacks’  region (A2A) for thousands if not millions of years. We humans joined the pilgrimage for our own survival, dodging the worst of winter’s wrath and following our meal-tickets as they embarked on their own migrations.

Turns out, there’s an interconnected network of trails and wildways stretching up the east cost of North America. You – or an Alice – could travel from Everglades National Park through Georgia’s Smoky Mountains, up the Appalachians, through the Adirondacks, across the Frontenac Arch and the St. Lawrence river and on into Algonquin Park. And there’s an organization that has charted these wildways, the species (and their movements) and the threats to biodiversity, particularly the numerous species-at-risk.

In October 2019, Wildlands Network released an interactive map of the Eastern Wildway, representing a major step forward in realizing a vision of connectivity for this region:

In their own words:

The Eastern Wildway contains some of North America’s most beloved national parks, preserves, scenic rivers, and other wild places, from the wilderness of Quebec, the Adirondacks, and the Shenandoah Valley, to the Great Smoky Mountains and Everglades National Park. Protecting and expanding these and other key core areas is crucial to rewilding the East.

I like the idea of rewilding. Of our spaces and our souls. Allowing our footfalls to provide the syncopation as we walk away our worries, lost-to-be-found in nature. And allowing nature to reclaim, to repossess, what we humans have taken from them, the birds, the bees, the flowers and the trees.

I was thinking about Alice recently when I came across a tragic story about a deer. This deer had managed to swim to Prince Edward Island – akin to Marilyn Bell swimming across Lake Ontario – only to be hit and killed by a transport truck not long after its arrival on the island. Alice had somehow survived an ordeal similar to our dearly-departed deer friend in PEI. And in Alice’s case, she was crossing one of the busiest highways in North America, the 401/TransCanada. At the point where Alice dodged death, the 401 is four lanes wide and busy almost 24 hours a day. This was Alice’s reality and the reality faced by every other ground-based species that migrates through the A2A region. The animals are simply following deep programming, genetic memories of migrations from hundreds of generations. The pathways are ancient. Highways are the interlopers, the recent development that benefits one species to the detriment of all others.

There are solutions. They go by a variety off names – wildlife overpasses, animal bridges, wildlife crossings – but I like to think of them as a modern iteration on an ancient tale. In the biblical story of Noah and his Ark, human wickedness required global cleansing, as the Almighty prepared to wash the sins of humans away through the medium of an unprecedented flood. But recognizing that the animals did not cause the wickedness and therefore should be saved, Noah was instructed by the Big Boss to construct a gigantic ark, a boat, that could hold a pair of each species. This would allow the animals to repopulate the world after the forty days of ‘cleansing’.

In our modern times, humanity constructs transportation monuments that seem built to demand animal sacrifice. But when we build a bridge – a Noah’s Arch – that allows wildlife to cross our highway infrastructures, we fulfill an obligation to right a wrong.

The A2A Collaborative’s Road Ecology project is aiming “to help reduce wildlife road mortality across the entire Algonquin to Adirondacks region by making recommendations on the best possible locations for wildlife crossings.” There are strong financial reasons to support these public works projects that buttress the moral reasons. In Alberta’s Bow Valley, a study found that “from 1998 and 2010 (there) was…an average of 62 WVCs (wildlife-vehicle collisions) per year. This amounts to an average cost-to-society of $640,922 per year due to motorist crashes with large wildlife, primarily ungulates.”

An “analysis of a wildlife underpass with fencing at a 3 km section… within the project area near Dead Man’s Flats showed that total WVCs dropped from an annual average of 11.8 per-construction to an annual average of 2.5 WVCs post-mitigation construction. The wildlife crossings and fencing reduced the annual average cost by over 90%, from an average of $128,337 per year to a resulting $17,564 average per year.”

The judicious construction of wildlife crossings saves lives and saves money. And it makes our wildways that much more alive with wildlife. It’s time for us humans to do our part and prioritize wildlife crossings on our major highways and roadways.

Alice would thank you.

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We can see this complexity playing out in the way wolves in some regions are caught in the paradox of adapting to anthropocentric change while contributing to the demise of caribou herds, at risk of extinction in multiple jurisdictions throughout Canada and the United States. In response, the B.C. government has expanded wolf culls as a way of managing growing threats of extinction while negating responsibility for addressing the deeper issues behind alarming rates of wildlife habitat loss in these same jurisdictions. Both criticized and upheld as an imperfect solution, wolf culls are in fact not a new practice and part of a well-worn colonial management approach that harkens back to its first appearance on this continent in 1630 in the Massachusetts Bay Colony.

Almost 400 years later, what has changed? Amid growing concerns from scientists, First Nations, ranchers, conservationists, hunters, animal rights activists and citizens on all sides of the debate, governments continue to overwhelmingly reach toward this expensive and controversial management approach for a solution to the threat of extinction. Have we stopped to consider the value placed on holding some creatures in the world and not others? In a recent in-depth report, journalist Sarah Cox revealed the B.C. government spent upwards of $2 million last winter on initiatives to kill 432 wolves, the most expensive of which was in the Kootenay region where, according to the B.C. Ministry of Forests, Lands, Natural Resources and Rural Development, they spent $100,000 to kill 10 wolves. Perhaps we need to step back from the zero-sum game of ‘yes versus no’ to think more deeply about who bears the true cost of turning away from the deeper issues behind our current crisis of wildlife extinction? More importantly, what we are willing to do about it as a society?

What often gets missed in the perpetual loop of applying wolf culls as so-called short-term solutions, is the long story of failed policy mechanisms that were supposed to prevent us from getting here in the first place. One of these is the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation (NAM), which positions wildlife as a resource to be managed on behalf of what is referred to as the public trust. Whose voices are taken seriously as constituting members of the public trust is a question that needs greater attention? Who do governments manage wildlife for and who gets consulted in the process?

Figure 1: Wolf track in snow. Photo taken during carnivore surveys, Salmo, B.C., Selkirk mountains. January, 2017. Credit: Rhiannon Kirton

While competition between caribou and other cervids (e.g., moose or deer) can lead to increased caribou predation by wolves, this is simply the most recent proximate cause of declines. Historically, caribou decline has been attributed not only to predation as a result of habitat augmentation and apparent competition, but also to high levels of legal and illegal harvest in the 1960s and 70s and adverse weather, amongst other factors (Environment Canada). While predator and moose reductions have been shown to increase caribou numbers in the short term, at best they have been shown to be a band aid solution versus a viable long-term strategy for success. As awareness of the ultimate driver of dangerous levels of caribou decline grows, there is an increasing recognition of the central issue being one of habitat loss, by those both for and against the wolf cull (Fig 1; Bridger, 2019). Although conservation and other advocacy groups continue to push for protection of old growth caribou habitat, the question of why government decision makers continue to drag their heels along such an ineffectual path gets harder to ignore. Why continue to allow habitats to be degraded and logged at the expense of both caribou and wolves? Whose voices do governments prioritize in the process of continued failure to protect caribou habitat? (Palm et al., 2020; MCRI, 2009). Is failing to do so a breach of NAM’s principle of acting on behalf of the public trust? What, if any, mechanisms exist to hold those in power accountable?  

Figure 2: Caribou habitat. South Selkirk mountain range close to White Water Ski. Resort photo taken during aerial caribou survey. February 2017. Credit: Rhiannon Kirton

NAM denotes a public ownership of wildlife resources which “is held in trust for the benefit of present and future generations by government”, although in real terms, this public often is rarely inclusive of First Nations and Native American peoples, a problem unto itself that we cannot do justice here (Eichler and Baumeister, 2018). The prospect of such entitlement being translated into a meaningful, productive public stewardship is uncertain, given “governance model for wildlife conservation decision making is typically at the (elected) ministerial level”, while boards and commissions exert limited impact. Despite governments admitting the need to modify the model for a greater participatory decision making, the caribou case manifests minimal progress in this respect. Unfortunately, caribou being federally listed as a Species At Risk in Canada has not translated into provincial habitat protection outside of federally owned lands. Why? Part of the reason is that voices of those outside of the decision-making structure might not only be ignored, but also be rendered silent. What does it say about our society in a time of ecological crisis to prioritize industry stakeholders above the value of a functioning ecosystem, which contains intact guilds of predators and ungulates alike? How, why and on whose terms is this discrepancy allowed to continue? 

In discussing the future of the North American Model (NAM), this statement is overwhelmingly instrumentalist: “the maintenance and fostering of landscapes that can sustain viable populations of all wildlife to ensure conservation of biodiversity and human use and enjoyment are of paramount concern”.  Among recommendations of applying and upgrading the model, citizen engagement in the conservation of biodiversity is stressed with grand and empty guidance. Why bend the goal of wildlife conservation to benefit industry stakeholders for short-term economic gain, if doing so erodes understandings of, and possibilities for, biodiversity as an integral component for our collective survival and prosperity? Given everything we now know about the importance of biodiversity in maintaining a healthy and sustainable world, shouldn’t we be promoting interdependency and reciprocity with nature as ultimate goals in public policy, for example, NAM’s wildlife management policy frameworks and application? The model does not need to stress the paramount importance of “the maintenance and fostering landscapes that can sustain viable populations of all wildlife to ensure conservation of biodiversity” and “human use and enjoyment”, because once the former is secured, it enables the latter. There do not exist two natural worlds, an abstract one that is servile to profit-driven human needs and a real one with lives we’ve never been familiar with. The problem of the model, nevertheless, further entrenches a rupture between humans and nature.

Figure 3: Wolf tracks. Simonette River, Municipal District of Greenview, AB. August 2020. Credit: Narda Nelson.

At such a precarious juncture for many creatures and habitats on the brink of extinction, can the story of contemporary wolves be rewritten beyond polarizing figures of either hero or villain? More than simply an inflammatory topic of debate, wolf culls point to the deeper problem of a collective refusal to step back from polarizing debates to better understand and take responsibility for contributing to the very issues that define these challenging times. To restore and safeguard the ecosystems that our existence depends on, it seems increasingly obvious that we should look to Indigenous peoples who have successfully protected the land for millennia. Perhaps the NAM’s failing is in its application and exclusion of Indigenous voices and the centering of colonial forms of management. There are varied approaches and opinions regarding wolf culls within First Nations across Turtle Island. Some, like the Saulteau and West Moberly First Nations, are already succeeding in holding caribou populations in the world where governments have failed.  Perhaps it’s time to seriously reconsider alternatives to continuing to implement the NAM and instead follow their lead.

This article is part of our March 2021 Western Student Editorial Series – a series that showcases the works of students in the Collaborative Specialization in Environment and Sustainability program. Read more articles from this series here!

References

Brook, R.K., Cattet, M., Darimont, C.T., Paquet, P.C., & Proulx, G. (2015). Maintaining ethical standards during conservation crises. Canadian Wildlife Biology and Management (4), 72-79.

Lavoie, J. (2018, April 5). Seeking the Science Behind B.C.’s Wolf Cull. The Narwhal. https://thenarwhal.ca/seeking-science-behind-b-c-s-wolf-cull/ 

Mountain Caribou Recovery Implementation Plan. (2009) http://www.env.gov.bc.ca/wld/speciesconservation/mc/files/progress_board_update20090213.pdf  

Palm, E. C., Fluker, S., Nesbitt, H. K., Jacob, A. L., & Hebblewhite, M. (2020). The long road to protecting critical habitat for species at risk: The case of southern mountain woodland caribou. Conservation Science and Practice, 2(7), e219.

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Human activities have thrusted our planet into a climate emergency. This calls for an urgent need for adaptation—adjusting our natural and human systems to minimize climate hazards, exploit climate opportunities, and mitigate—the conscious actions to minimize the emission of greenhouse gases (GHGs) and to remove existing GHGs through improving carbon sinks. Climate change is real, and the consequences are vivid. From the melting polar caps of Alaska all the way to Kiribati’s dissipating beaches, climate change stymies our livelihoods and heightens vulnerability to environmental hazards. So, why is there even the existence of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC)? According to their official website, “the IPCC was created to provide policymakers on climate change, its implications and potential future risks, as well as to put forward adaptation and mitigation options,” (IPCC, 2020). Some of the solutions often floated around by this and other giant institutions include constructing greenhouses to support agricultural food systems in drylands, building reservoirs to collect excess runoff, and providing crop insurance to tackle crop failure. In their “infinite” wisdom, these bureaucrats placed a caveat that we should adopt these strategies in ways that support the national, regional, and local contexts. Interesting, huh? But with the lenses of reality on, how can Kiribati people, who have almost nothing, adapt to their rising sea levels and dissipating coastline, build reservoirs to tackle flooding, and provide farmland insurance for farmers whose farmlands turned into water bodies overnight?

Even though there is a lot of attention to tackle climate change, Nature-based Solutions (NBS)—using traditional and naturally producing resources to mitigate environmental hazards—have been side-lined for technocratic solutions, and sometimes retrogressive—climate wise—technological innovations. Moreover, much of these current approaches are usually bogged down in faulty rhetoric. For instance, everyone wants a better environment, at the same time, also wanting the comfort of owning a luxury and eco-unfriendly car.  Who takes the buses then? It cannot work that way; you must pick your poison! In retrospect, Greta Thunberg was precisely correct when she called economic growth ‘a fairytale.’ The questions that remain unanswered are: why are we so ever focused on the use of artificial methodologies in reverting the world to a more natural state? Would it not help to use a nature-based approach instead? For instance, in the illustration of Megan Leslie—President, and CEO of World Wildlife Fund Canada, the need for NBS could not be more apparent:

“If you think about the increasing floods we are seeing, for example, concrete culverts and breakwaters can only handle so much water. Silver maple can absorb 220 liters of water [an hour]! If we replace all this concrete with natural infrastructure, with green infrastructure, firstly, it can handle the floods. Secondly, it’s resilient… it bounces back.” –Megan Leslie

NBS have emerged as cost-effective mitigation and adaptation strategies that simultaneously provide socio-ecological and economic benefits while boosting resilience among people. According to the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN), NBS involves the intentional use of nature for sustainably managing ecosystems and tackling socio-environmental challenges. The nature-based solutions are rooted in the oxymoronic ideals of going back to move forward, looking into naturally occurring solutions that can be humanly instigated and controlled to increase resiliency and fight climate change. These suggestions are topical as they are relevant and include reimagining green housing, utilizing natural resources for construction and plant growth to fight climate change. NBS to climate change emphasizes harnessing the myriad potentiality of nature to reduce GHGs while also adapting to climate-related stresses such as human health, food and water insecurity. NBS to climate change is considered a win-win approach. We get to protect, restore, and sustain our ecosystem while efficiently addressing an existential threat. Further, NBS can be adopted in both rural and urban settings—an attribute which makes NBS more practical and comprehensive.

Rural areas

Although climate change is omnipresent, there are differences in the intensity of these impacts because of two factors: (1) your location in the world and (2), the level of disposable resources with wealth at its core. Sadly, folks in the Global South or the developing worlds, are particularly more affected by climate change due to their heavy dependence on natural resources from which they derive their livelihoods, and their limited availability to adapt to the changing environmental conditions. As dire as these conditions may be, they are also being exacerbated by prevailing adaptation strategies. For example, to stimulate agriculture, the current use of high-nitrogen-fertilizers over time makes the land progressively barren while leaching nitrous oxide into the drainage system and polluting vital drinking water sources for millions of people. With NBS, however, simple practices like mulching (yes, good old mulching), could prove essential for revitalizing smallholder farmlands through soil moisture conservation and sustainably improving soil fertility. Typically, mulching involves collecting and applying decomposing organic matter (e.g. sawdust, wood, grass, food scraps) over arable lands’ topsoil. The best part is that mulching materials are free and readily available. This process could solve the triple problem of utilizing food waste, soil infertility, and improving biodiversity.

A smallholder farming household practicing mulching // Source: Bryan Waters

Another NBS that could be employed in these areas is the utilization of bamboo grass. Bamboo (Subfamily: Bambusoideae) is a fast-growing, drought-resistant grass. It can be the best crop that can grow in some environments. This ancient grass serves many purposes. In fact, there is evidence of its utility in building construction, making furniture, serving as windbreaks, and where native, could even be planted around your luxurious million-dollar home as a living privacy screen (you know, against those shady neighbors). In other words, bamboo is the gift that keeps on giving and there is something in it for everyone. As climate change continues to wreak havoc globally, substituting bamboo in place of plastic in privacy screens or in place of destroying mature Mahogany trees from the rainforest (which take 25 years to grow) are great strides toward reductions in carbon footprint. The bamboo plant thus serves as a stylish, classy, and sustainable alternative. As we begin to care for and incorporate bamboo use in our daily lives, we will also be indirectly preserving biodiversity since it serves as the main diet and habitat for some of the world’s cutest animals.

Locals putting bamboo to use // Source: Panos Pictures/Felix Features

Urban areas

Urban centers or cities are characteristic of high-density infrastructure—roads, bridges, airports, residential and commercial buildings, etc. Many cities like New York and Toronto, struggle with creating and developing spaces for nature. But with a switch to NBS, vegetation can be used to cover the walls or roofs of buildings in urban centers. Green roofs and walls have numerous benefits to the ecosystem and human health. Some of these benefits include insulation provision (thus reducing energy consumption), absorbing rainwater (potential to reduce floods), minimizing the urban heat island effects, and serving as carbon sinks. Green roofs and walls make urban settings aesthetically pleasing as well, which could reduce the stress associated with these busy, noisy, and chaotic systems. Roofs absorb rainwater and can cool the tops of buildings, thereby creating milder microclimatic conditions. The concept of green roofs has taken shape in some cities including Toronto, which in 2009 was the first city to promulgate a bylaw that regulates and governs the construction of green roofs.

 Green walling in urban structures // Source: WikiCommons

Green roofing in urban settings // Source: Urbanscape

Overall, NBS provide sustainable toolkits for adapting and mitigating climate change; they are available and accessible to people in all socio-economic classes. NBS is part of existing ways of life and requires minimal special initiatives to implement. They are cheaper to implement, good for the environment, utilize indigenous knowledge, and are often community based. This also leads to empowerment, which makes implementation and sustainability more feasible. Combating climate change is imperative in every dimension—politically, economically, and morally, because it embodies our collective attempt at saving the lives and livelihoods of billions of people.

This article is part of our March 2021 Western Student Editorial Series – a series that showcases the works of students in the Collaborative Specialization in Environment and Sustainability program. Read more articles from this series here!

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Over the past week or so, my world has been very high-energy, productive, and busy, busy, busy! I have been maximizing my time at A\J by writing, thinking, creating, editing, and giving as much of myself to my work as I can – not only because I have obligations, but because I love it! I am someone who thrives on busyness. I want to have my foot in every door and I want to check off every box on the to-do list – these things energize me and move me forward. But recently, I came to a point, after a lot of constant creative output, where I was left with a mental block. I sat down to write this article, which was going to be about how nature relieves eco-anxiety (we’ll get to that later), and I could not think of anything to write. I had zero ideas, and when I dipped into my creative pool, it was dry. 

My brain felt like an internet browser with 25 tabs open, tons of information whizzing around, and all the softwares working at once – and it was starting to get slower and slower, lagging and loading… loading… loading … I actually did have tons of tabs open on my computer and its functionality was diminishing. My screen was exhausted and my eyes were sore from staring at it; I literally felt connected to my computer. So, when I finished work the other day, I closed all the tabs, shut down my computer, and walked away from it. And funny enough, I was unintentionally doing the same thing to my brain – disconnecting and unplugging.

After finishing up my work for the day, I decided to go for a walk around the block. It was around 6pm, so the sun was no longer in the sky, but the light of day remained and blanketed the world in a golden hue. I stepped outside, took a deep breath of fresh air, and the first thing I heard was the call of a mourning dove. It instantly calmed me. I heard its familiar call and it had a very real, very immediate effect on me. For a moment, the only thing occupying my brain was the sound of another living being. It was as if all the other thoughts that usually have intense bumper car competitions in my mind were temporarily wiped away – the bumper car ride at the amusement park was closed for maintenance and it was finally quiet. 

I walked a little farther down the street, then stopped for a moment by a giant pine tree. A little identification trick that I learned in school popped into my mind, so I picked up a fallen needle and tried bending it between my fingers – snap! It broke in half, indicating that it was a red pine. Then, I heard tiny chitter-chatter noises coming from squirrels in the trees as they sat exchanging their latest news to one another. I also heard another unknown bird – chip! chip! chip! And then I heard the whirr of bikes as a few people sped past me, and I decided to keep walking before I looked weirder than I already did, standing alone on the sidewalk, looking at squirrels. 

I turned around a corner onto another street and was boldly met with the sky – bright, royal blue fading into deep, golden orange on the horizon. No clouds were in the sky, which made the colours even more striking. All of the sudden, after stepping outside and noticing a few mere suburban elements of nature, I realized I felt inspired again. I had been giving so much of myself in my life and work that there was not enough left for me to draw inspiration from. It was time for me to refill myself, so I could once again have the capacity to give and share again, and being in nature was what allowed me to do so. 

I have often turned to nature for inspiration and healing when I feel empty or distant from my own self. I stop looking at the screens that so often dictate my every move. I get away from the obligations, the voices, the lists. And I go outside. I listen and look closely, paying attention to minute details. I clear my brain of the constant reel of information and thoughts that run through each day, and start making room for new thoughts that are meaningful, that spark inspiration, and that allow me to reconnect with my physical surroundings. These types of thoughts can come in when I stop thinking about all the how’s, why’s, when’s, and where’s of my day. I had been pondering how I was going to write this article for a couple of weeks, then in one moment, it all came to me – just from going for a walk and intentionally NOT thinking about it. 

Tiny fungi rainbows // Credit: Siobhan Mullally

Nature as a Remedy for Eco-anxiety 

I have found that there are a great many things to befriend in nature that can heal, inspire, and give us peace in our lives. It’s quite known these days that nature greatly benefits mental health. There have been many studies that show how interacting with nature can be therapeutic and calming, and help relieve stress, anxiety, and depression. Even bringing nature indoors by listening to recorded nature sounds or having images of natural spaces in our homes can help improve our moods. So, we know that nature is beneficial for a healthy mind, but what if the state of nature is the core reason for mental negativity?

As a young person today, a main source of anxiety for me is the state of the world. I’m sure many others are with me on this who experience this eco-anxiety on the daily. The world is on fire, species are dying, our natural world is becoming trashed and artificial, but greed seems to win the fight every time. The people fighting for a better world are exhausted and the young people inheriting it are terrified (and most of the time these two groups consist of the same people). This isn’t the kind of stress or anxiety that goes away after finishing a project at work, submitting a final assignment, or giving a major presentation. It’s a constant, looming anxiety that will never go away because it is about holding the world together. 

The people fighting for a better world are exhausted and the young people inheriting it are terrified (and most of the time these two groups consist of the same people).

Imagine the world is a giant broken vase. Some people are actively contributing to the breaking, and some people have no active role in either the breaking or fixing, but the rest of us are all working together to hold the pieces in place and fill in the cracks where we can. Older generations are starting to let go of the pieces, passing them onto younger generations, but the pieces are breaking more than ever, so young people are having to use both hands. They can’t let go or it will fall apart. But wait! My nose is itchy and I can’t scratch it; I can’t take my hands off because I have a duty to hold this world together. I must ignore my own natural, normal needs (i.e. my hopes and dreams of pursuing my life goals, having a full career, starting a family, having a functional planet to live in, etc) to keep it from falling apart. Eco-anxiety is fully real.

Climate Strike at the University of Waterloo // Credit: Siobhan Mullally

As young people who deal with eco-anxiety, we need to be taking breaks from work and screens to be in nature to help sustain our mental health. By being in nature, we can reconnect with it, feel like we are a part of it, rediscover our innate thirst for the beauty of the natural world and our dependence on it, feel it in our own hands, and be grounded in it. Nature’s great peril is what drives eco-anxiety, so it makes sense that nurturing our relationship with the Earth by physically being with it can help aid this.

Connecting with nature can look like a lot of different things: growing plants in your garden, digging your hands into the soil, going to a local forest and feeling the bark of the trees, learning the names of the birds in your backyard, laying on the grass and watching the clouds, or even simply noticing living things that you might not have noticed before, like lichens, fungi, and moss. I think all of these small actions can help alleviate greater anxieties about the world. It’s about bringing your mind from the global picture and scaling it down to the hyper-local microclimate where you physically stand, honing in on the small details. I believe that we may be more able to continue advocating for a better world in a global sense if we devote time and energy to connecting with the natural world around us on a more intimate level.

A closer look at a Citrus Flatid Planthopper (Metcalfa pruinosa) // Credit: Siobhan Mullally

By stepping outside, not only are you getting a good dose of fresh oxygen, serotonin, vitamin D, and maybe a pretty sunset out of it – you’re reconnecting with the earth. The ground you’re walking on. The plants and animals that you coexist with. The little delights that live and thrive and breathe and walk and live all around you. And if we keep connecting with these things, I hope we will feel a little bit more grounded in our own backyards, realizing that we’re part of nature and we can take care of it in the footsteps of people who have done so for many generations. We can get to know the names of the species around us, the bird calls, the texture of the grass outside, the smell of the soil in our gardens. These details are important – they are vital to upholding the connection we have to the Earth. And we will be able to fight for this planet and remedy our eco-anxiety if we keep tending to the relationship we have with nature.

All you have to do is shut down your internet browser brain, close all the tabs, and let it rest. Shut down the cranial bumper cars for maintenance. Embrace the quiet in your mind to feel inspired and rejuvenated. Go outside and find treasures in nature that calm you, reconnect you, ground you, and inspire you. Listen for your mourning dove call.

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The CBC article and podcast features Kevin Parkinson, a wildfire operations officer based out of Slave Lake, Alberta, who is one of the few trained experts within the province with an intimate knowledge of utilizing prescribed burns for combating large wildfires. 

As a highlight on the podcast series, this CBC article touches on a lesser-known side of wildfires, that is, that wildfires are not necessarily inherently bad. In fact, they can even be beneficial. Wildfires themselves are natural and the complete prevention of them is not always the “best solution”, even from a human-centric point of view. Massive, destructive wildfires can be devastating, as we’ve all seen in the media in recent years, with fires including the 2016 Fort McMurray fire in Alberta or the 2020 El Dorado fire in California. These large, out-of-control massive fires differ significantly from the prescribed burns described by Snowdon’s article.

Wildfires themselves are natural and the complete prevention of them is not always the “best solution”…

Prescribed burns, also commonly known as controlled burns, are fires set intentionally by experts for land or fire management. As mentioned by the article, these types of burns are done across Alberta each year, however, it is important to note that they are used across Canada and other parts of the world for the benefits they provide. Interestingly, they can be used for fire management, reducing the risks associated with subsequent fires on the landscape. They can also aid in greenhouse gas abatement, promoting regeneration and regrowth of forested areas, and the restoration or maintenance of habitats.

Re-growth on the forest floor after the 2017 Horse Prairie Fire in southern Oregon // Credit: Chelsea Uggenti

You may ask yourself: “How does starting fires lead to less fires?” Although it may seem counter-intuitive, prescribed burn fires can help reduce the risk of later, and often more severe and thus dangerous, fires. Over time, combustible materials such as dried leaves and branches can build up on the forest floor. This accumulation can make the forest more susceptible to a severe fire. Attempting to suppress and prevent fires indefinitely actually often helps enable excess combustible material to accumulate, thus increasing the risk of a severe fire later. Prescribed burns are used to clear this material away before the risk becomes too great. 

Cleaning up the forest floor litter after a prescribed burn in 2018 near Bend, Oregon // Credit: Chelsea Uggenti

Cleaning up the forest floor litter after a prescribed burn in 2017 in the Ochoco National Forest // Credit: Chelsea Uggenti

From an ecological point of view, fires can be important to maintaining certain habitats, and some ecological communities are even regarded as “fire dependent”. Without relatively frequent fires, these areas will not support the same species they otherwise would. Prolonged fire suppression efforts by humans have altered these landscapes, but we are realizing that fires can be important. Through prescribed burns, some of these ecosystems have been at least partially restored.

A few ways that prescribed burns can begin were also highlighted in the CBC article. One such method included dropping fireballs (ping-pong like balls filled with glycol that chemically react) from helicopters to ignite slow burning forest fires. However, sometimes a more intense fire is warranted during a prescribed burn. For these more intense fires, another aerial technique that is employed is called a heli-torch, a helicopter with a 45-gallon drum with gel that is ignited as it is dumped over the forest. Other tamer methods include using a drip torch – a canister that pours flaming fuel onto the ground, done manually while walking in the forest – which are a bit less intense but just as important for wildfire suppression. These are just a few of the hazard reduction technologies and techniques Parkinson uses to protect from larger wildfires, however, there is a lot more strategy involved than simply playing with pyrotechnics. As the article highlights, smaller strategic fires can be set to redirect wildfires in safer directions towards natural fire breaks and often, these fires are carefully planned and executed in detail.

A scorched tree after a wildfire in Umpqua National Forest, Oregon // Credit: Chelsea Uggenti

These burns must be done responsibly, with careful consideration and planning of the present environment. Short and long-term weather conditions, the combustible material present, the types of ecosystems, and nearby infrastructure are all factored in when agencies create a “burn plan”. Parkinson mentioned the carefully planned and executed prescribed burn in Rocky Mountain House that took 10 years to occur while they waited for the right conditions. Although some people believe these burns are bad since they can create or increase smoke plumes in populated areas which can lead to uncomfortable breathing conditions or increased smoke-related illnesses, it is important to realize that the smoke generated by these burns is usually less intrusive and dangerous than the smoke generated by a raging wildfire.

What does this mean to us, exactly? We feel that articles like this give us hope. Although wildfires can be very dangerous and scary, there are some amazing preventative measures, like prescribed burns, in place that help to reduce their risks. It is inspiring to read about Kevin Parkinson’s flaming ping-pong balls technique and the other methods employed by fire fighters and crews. Moving forward, we hope to see better communication (I mean, we’re living in the digital age, right?!) between fire management agencies, fire fighters, and the public that continues to share and strengthen the knowledge that prescribed burns are necessary and effective. We hear the common “short-term pains for long-term gains” phrase ringing in our minds.

This article is part of our March 2021 Western Student Editorial Series – a series that showcases the works of students in the Collaborative Specialization in Environment and Sustainability program. Read more articles from this series here!

The post Fighting Fire with Fire appeared first on A\J.

Being Métis, that statement by Jim Sinclair to the 1987 First Ministers’ Conference often plays in my mind. 

Self-determination—the ability to freely pursue one’s own destiny—is a basic human right. It is enshrined in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and has since been formally recognized by the Government of Canada. 

More than 35 years after Mr. Sinclair’s principled stand, however, Canada continues to grapple with how to breathe life into that most fundamental of principles. Progress is undoubtedly being made, but not at the pace that many would like. Untangling the web of colonial systems, attitudes and assumptions upon which Canadian society is built is a complex task. One requiring nuanced, nation-specific approaches developed through nation-to-nation relationships.  

As a former elected Métis Nation representative, I’ve sat across from ministers, senior government officials and private sector leaders, attempting to untangle this very web. I can attest to the many practical challenges of achieving full and lasting reconciliation. I can also attest to the value of conversation, learning and relationship building, however long it may take. 

What gets me most excited, though, is myriad of ways through which Indigenous Peoples across what is now Canada are taking action today. Asserting their inherent right to self-determination through efforts big and small, as diverse and unique as Indigenous Nations themselves. Creating positive, lasting change for their communities in the process. 

The #BeadworkRevolution was one such action that I was privileged to be a part of. The reasoning, for me at least, was simple. To advance our nation’s rights and aspirations now and into the future, we needed to harness the collective knowledge, skills and passion of all Métis citizens, including Métis youth. To create that collective consciousness, we needed to rebuild a sense of shared identity and pride that many Métis youth struggle to find. 

What started as a project to simply teach Métis floral beadwork to a new generation, so that every young person could feel connected to and proud of their Métis heritage, grew into a bigger change-making action that none of us could have originally imagined. 

More youth wearing beadwork led to more awareness, more interest, and more requests for materials and instruction by Métis and non-Métis people alike. To keep up with this enthusiasm and demand, our youth group created a “Learn to Bead” kit—everything someone would need for their first beading project, complete with graphical instructions, all in a handy and easy to mail jar. 

By selling these $20 kits to individuals, communities, service providers, governments, school boards and more, we not only raised the awareness and excitement we’d hoped for, but enough money to start a province-wide micro-grant program, through which any Métis youth could apply for up to $500 to host a community gathering or cultural event, to bring community members young and old together. We knew that the potential of our young people was infinite. The grants helped them bring it to life.

With the support of a growing number of partners, that success grew into an annual Métis youth conference, a full-time staff person dedicated to Métis youth issues, and a province-wide initiative where Métis youth could come together to take action on issues that mattered most to them, including education, health and well-being, environmental sustainability, language and culture, and nation building. 

Our small idea grew into Métis youth coming together to assert their inherent right to self-determination. And while I’m no longer a youth, the initiatives carry on under a new generation of leaders. 

Working now at the Sustainable Forestry Initiative (SFI) and Project Learning Tree Canada (PLT Canada), I’m constantly amazed to learn about and partner with other Indigenous Nations who are actively and creatively exercising their inherent right to self-determination.

This includes the Lac Seul First Nation, whose community-owned business, Ondaadiziwin Forest Management, obtained Ontario’s first Enhanced Sustainable Forest License and successfully certified to the SFI Forest Management Standard. Through Ondaadiziwin, Lac Seul is creating jobs and training opportunities for local youth. They are deepening relationships with local municipalities, businesses and land managers. They have not only reclaimed active stewardship of over 1 million hectares of their territory, but are building a resilient and sustainable local economy in the process.

SFI and PLT Canada have been privileged to partner with Ondaadiziwin, co-creating positive, community-driven change that advances the interests and priorities that matter most to them. Together, we have supported land-based Green Jobs for youth, invested in skills training to further build the Nation’s forest management capacity, and have shared the stories and voices of Lac Seul’s current forestry leaders to help inspire their next generation of environmental stewards. 

Like SFI and PLT Canada, Canadians old and young are taking up their own call to relationship and reconciliation. Listening and learning to become the best neighbours and partners they can be. We all have a role to play. Not least of which is letting Indigenous Peoples lead.

The reality that started for me with the #BeadworkRevolution becomes clearer every day is that Indigenous Peoples have long been leading and will continue to lead. The Lac Seul First Nation’s efforts through the vehicle of sustainable forest management is just one example on a list far too long and diverse for me to fully describe. Through creativity, determination and respectful partnership, that list continues to grow by the day. 

Seeing it now from both sides of the table, I can’t help but recognize the prophetic nature of Mr. Sinclair’s words to the First Minister’s Conference all those years ago: “This is not an end. It’s only the beginning… We break new roads for those who’ll come in the future. Don’t worry Mr. Prime Minister and premiers of the provinces, I may be gone but our people will be back.” 

The post Growing Partnerships, Prosperity and a Brighter Future for Us All appeared first on A\J.

But coming out of university, I found myself being just another young person with a diploma and few employable skills. Weeks of job hunting led to me questioning my situation and decisions. Was a university education not a sure-fire ticket to a great job? Had I tumbled off the time-tested path to career success? Or had I been misinformed? 

Then one day, I happened upon an issue of Maclean’s calling Canadians into the forest. Positions needed to be urgently filled before an impending wave of Boomer retirements decimated the sector’s ranks, it said.

For someone who practically grew up in the forest, I realized I held an old fashioned, plaid-wearing, axe-swinging picture of forestry in Canada. Who knew it was still an option? Maybe it was time for me to put the plaid back on and give it a swing!

To my good fortune, the Métis Nation of Ontario (MNO) had recently launched a program designed exactly for people like me who were eager to work but in need of employment-ready training. With the MNO’s full support, I went off to the Forest Technician program at Confederation College. 

This kickstarted my new career pathway. One with no clear destination, far messier than the one I’d been sold in high school, but guided by a desire to accumulate experiences, skills and knowledge under my belt that would get me somewhere I loved. I invited myself to wander, following new interests and new opportunities, building a one-of-a kind skillset, while learning what made me happiest and brought me the most fulfillment in the process. 

Now, in my role as the Director of Indigenous and Youth Relations at the Sustainable Forestry Initiative (SFI) and Project Tree Learning Canada (PLT Canada), I get to use my lived experience to help other young people navigate their own pathway to success—whatever that means to them. Serving as the guidance I needed when I was in their position.

From pre-employment training programs to post-employment community service opportunities; every program, service and support tool we provide is a stepping-stone that a young person can take along their own unique career path. 

Free resources like our career fact sheets and “Guide to Green Jobs in Canada: Voices of Indigenous Professionals”highlight the diversity of green job opportunities in the forest and conservation sector. Webinars, online courses and skills funding help youth build their professional competencies. Work-ready equipment grants can help remove employment barriers. Green Jobs wage-matching connects youth with paid work experiences. Mental wellness services help ensure youth are supported along the way. Mentorship experiences and conference scholarships help youth grow into bigger and better roles. And PLT Canada’s Green Jobs Ambassador Program helps youth pay it forward through community service. Completing an overall well-rounded support system to get indigenous youth into the forest and a rewarding career.

Like in the forest itself, there is no right or wrong green path. Only your green career path. 

So, embrace new experiences. Pursue what gets you most excited. Don’t be afraid to take a couple steps back (or sideways) or make your own path when something doesn’t feel right. And learn every step of the way. Take it from this now not-so-young person with a green career he loves!

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SFI advances sustainability through forest-focused collaborations. SFI is an independent, non-profit organization that demonstrates its commitment to forests through its work in standards, conservation, education, and community. SFI works with the forest sector, conservation groups, academics, researchers, brand owners, resource professionals, landowners, educators, local communities, Indigenous Peoples, and governments to achieve a vision of a world that values and benefits from sustainably managed forests. Learn more: www.sfiprogram.org.

About Project Learning Tree Canada (PLT Canada)

An initiative of the Sustainable Forestry Initiative, Project Learning Tree Canada (PLT Canada) believes in a society that values and benefits from sustainably managed forests and the great outdoors. PLT Canada is committed to using the outdoors to engage youth in learning about the world around them—in rural, Indigenous and urban communities—and using trees and forests as windows on the world to inspire action and grow the next generation of future forest and conservation leaders.

Since 2018, PLT Canada has placed youth in over 3,000 high quality work experiences through its Green Job program, achieving both gender balance and over 500 placements for Indigenous youth. The program is successful thanks in large part to the organization’s employer partners across the SFI and Canadian Parks Council networks. Green Jobs youth gain valuable work experience that helps them pursue careers as foresters, wildlife biologists, Indigenous knowledge coordinators, hydrologists, park rangers and much more.

PLT Canada also offers a mentorship program, factsheet, resume and cover letter review services, and webinars to support the career growth and essential skills development of both job seekers and employers. PLT Canada also offers environmental education materials to help inspire the love of forests and nature, and mental health and wellness services to help participants be their best self! Learn more: www.pltcanada.org

Week One: Forging a Career Path in the Forest Sector.

Week Two: Growing Partnerships, Prosperity and a Brighter Future for Us All.

Week Three: What do you call this?

Week Four: Let’s Paddle Together

The post #ForestFridays appeared first on A\J.

 Here is Matt’s Eco-Hero Story – Covid Cleanup Project

My name is Matt McCoy and I am a graduating student from the University of Guelph and an Oakville resident. I have always been a big fan of hiking on the trails in Oakville, my favourite spot being the 16 Mile Creek trail system. On my hikes, I couldn’t help to notice the constant eyesores of garbage scattered all through the trails that I grew up wandering through. When COVID-19 hit, I found myself motivated to use this moment as the perfect opportunity to get families and other students out to do something for the greater good of our neighborhood. We organized a garbage cleanup, giving us a chance to reconnect with nature during the times of human isolation AND to give back something to nature in the process: a local movement of good.

On April 24th, I decided to take action and launched an initiative called “Covid Cleanup Project” with the goal of using this time to clean up our trails and environment. I created a website with a scheduling tool to ensure that people could get out at different times and keep a distance from others, and used social media to get the word out to my friends. I even reached out to Rob Burton, who serves as the Mayor of Oakville, and he graciously gave his full support for this movement. 

The project officially wrapped up on July 8^th. The results? Almost 200 bags of garbage collected in 7 cities across the GTA with over 40 volunteers helping out. As part of the initiative, we were also able to raise $2,440 for Second Harvest Canada, Canada’s largest food rescue and food bank, who have been doing incredible work by helping those that have been most affected by COVID-19 the hardest. 

This project combines my passion for entrepreneurship and environmental activism. In my first year of university, I started a barbecue cleaning and repairs company right here in Oakville which I grew to over 30 employees across Ontario, eventually landing a deal on CBC’s Dragons’ Den. After spending much of my university life focused on growing this business, I recently sold the business and used the skills I learned to launch a new startup called Start Smart Inc., with the goal of helping other students get their start in entrepreneurship while still in their studies. 

When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, I decided to put the time to purpose and use the skills I had learned to launch the Covid Cleanup Project. This project aims to get students and families out on the trails, clean up some litter and gain an appreciation for our local environment. 

Starting this project, my one motto which plays over and over in my head: “Think global, act local” that kept this movement alive. This motto can be traced back to my first grade teacher, Mme Linton. Mme Linton was a passionate environmental advocate who started a project that became ingrained in our identity of our school. This project was called “Dream Acres” and was launched with the goal of beautifying our school grounds and teaching students the importance of environmental stewardship. Showing us that when environmental appreciation is integrated during the childhood experience, it will often be carried into our adulthood,

I’ve been lucky enough to have many positive influences in my life and I am excited to find ways to inspire others to take on similar projects and initiatives. If we’re going to save the planet, it’s going to take the effort of many individuals to come together and create the change, one baby step to one giant leap at a time. Let’s get started! 

Matt McCoy 

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Due to the continued human persecution of eastern wolves through decades of hunting and trapping, wolf and coyote species began to interbreed. Repeated admixture with both gray wolves and eastern coyotes (Canis latrans) has resulted in an alphabet soup of genetic hybridization, meaning that the wolves inhabiting Algonquin Park today represent a unique blend of historical and current canid ancestry.

Rather than lament the loss of a ‘pure’ eastern wolf, it is more important to realize that the admixed ancestry of the current wolves in Algonquin could actually be their greatest hope against an uncertain future existence. Put simply, the DNA from gray wolves and eastern coyotes could result in beneficial genetic changes for the Algonquin wolf population that can facilitate their adaptation and persistence in a rapidly changing world.

Both COSEWIC (Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada) and COSSARO (Committee on the Status of Species at Risk in Ontario) have policies for genetic admixture and have recognized the Algonquin wolf as a listable entry. As of 2015, it was listed as threatened due to having between 250 and 1000 mature individuals remaining in the wild, and gained immediate protection from being harmed under the Endangered Species Act (ESA) in Ontario.

This isn’t where the story ends unfortunately and the reality is much more pessimistic. A few months later in July of 2016, the Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry decided to exempt the Algonquin wolf from the protection of the ESA; with the exception of Algonquin Provincial Park, Killarney Provincial Park, Queen Elizabeth II Wildlands Provincial Park, and Kawartha Provincial Park (and a few surrounding townships), hunting and trapping is allowed to continue. Considering that the main threat for wolf mortality outside of these protected areas is human-induced hunting and trapping, population expansion is unlikely. The populations of wolves in these protected areas will therefore become increasingly isolated from each other and will likely result in more interbreeding with coyotes, and possibly inbreeding between the wolves themselves, reducing their genetic ability to adapt to future challenges.

The grim reality of allowing a threatened species to be hunted is compounded by two additional factors: there are likely less wolves than we think, and we don’t know how many are hunted each year. According to a study published in Diversity and Distribution, the effective population size of Algonquin wolves (a measure of the risk of genetic decline) is too low to avoid inbreeding (short-term), and too low to suggest long-term persistence. Essentially, there aren’t enough mature wolves to optimistically say that they will still exist in the near future. If that isn’t concerning enough, Algonquin wolves look nearly identical to eastern coyotes and without a genetic test, there is no reliable way to tell them apart. Since eastern coyotes are not protected in these four areas, and the province does not require DNA samples from hunted and trapped animals, it is likely that more Algonquin wolves are being killed than we realize.

Algonquin wolves are a species endemic to Canada, and it falls on Canadians to protect them and advocate for their conservation, and we are failing them. As it stands, they are threatened, reduced to four increasingly isolated protected habitats, and are hunted and trapped more than we realize. Should current practices continue, Algonquin wolves will become more sparse and it will be Canadians that must harbour the blame for choosing not to help save a native species.

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