A wonderful visit to Golden Gate Elementary School, Naples, Florida

A decade or so ago, an article appeared in the Palm Beach Post quoting me as saying, “The leaders we have to reach are in diapers today.” I was referring to the largest environmental restoration project in history – the Everglades – and the fact it would take unwavering dedication and stewardship over decades to ensure its success. (I was speaking in my former role as president of The Conservancy of Southwest Florida and co-chair of the Everglades Coalition.) I suppose those once-diapered kids I was referring to are now in elementary school, which is why I was intrigued to hear explorer Scott W. Hamilton, speaking at the Explorers Club Annual Dinner last year, state that “the next commander of a manned mission to Mars is in elementary school today.” The daunting challenges ahead of humanity – whether restoring ecosystems, saving coral reefs, battling climate change or holding the first handful of red sand on Mars – are decades-long efforts that can’t rest on the shoulders of a single generation. So is the next generation more ready than we were to take on such challenges? I’m in the process of finding out. 

I’ve been on the road constantly, giving speeches to K-12 schools in what I hope will soon be all 50 states plus U.S. territories. So far I’ve reached 16 states and one U.S. territory, bringing presentations to more than 15,000 students about the wonders of the ocean and the threats it faces.

What began as a deeply personal quest to celebrate my 50th birthday and honor the memory of my father (who shared his love of the ocean with me but was lost at sea just before his 50th birthday) has evolved into something much more. As I’ve listened to students’ cheers, applause and even shrieks during my presentations, spoken with them individually and looked into their wide, excited eyes, it’s become clear I’ve tapped into an enormous, pent-up passion, fascination and love of the oceans that I must admit even I had underestimated. Such enthusiasm is incredibly strong even among the thousands of students I’ve visited that have never seen an ocean.

Speaking to 400 students in the gymnasium at Midway Middle School, Georgia

I’ve had similar responses from the teachers (well, except for the shrieks), some of whom were furiously scribbling notes as I spoke. They later told me how much of what I presented they never knew themselves and that they intended to incorporate it into their curriculum. I’ve met some incredible teachers and seen firsthand their extraordinary achievements and selfless dedication to bringing the gift of a strong science education to their students, often amid massive budget cuts and maddening administrative bureaucracies.

There is an incredible thirst among today’s students for clues to the mysteries of the oceans, how those blue waters affect their lives and vice versa, and what exciting, rewarding careers await them in science and especially, marine science. Unfortunately, few of these children are getting from their standard curriculum. I’ve been humbled by seeing that there are legions of natural allies for the cause of ocean conservation out there, students and teachers alike eagerly asking what they can do to help.

A project of The Ocean Foundation, the Ocean Doctor’s “50 Years – 50 States – 50 Speeches Expedition” takes me back to my roots as a marine science teacher and I still find it every bit as fulfilling to watch young eyes widen, perspectives change and horizons broaden when the students I visit with learn about the sea and its mysteries. It is also gratifying to realize that a 50+ year-old ocean doctor is capable of learning so much from the students and teachers he encounters, and that his heart capable of being deeply moved by the faces, lives and stories he encounters on his journey.

Macksville High School, Kansas, definitely “in the middle of somewhere”

I visited a high school of just 100 students in Kansas, not far from the geographical center of the lower 48 states, a community that had recently been devastated by two killer tornadoes. They apologetically referred to their community, Macksville, as being “in the middle of nowhere.” But after spending the afternoon with some delightful high school students, I came away with a very different opinion of a remote but remarkably resilient place where the terrible tragedies of two years ago had brought their community together like never before. To me, it most definitely felt like a “somewhere.” The students shared with me their love of nature, mostly hunting and fishing among local lands. Their experiences were vastly different from mine, but we shared a great appreciation for the outdoors.

My first visit to Mt. Rushmore and to the enormous Central High in Rapid City, SD High School!

In the shadow of Mt. Rushmore, nestled within the Black Hills, I visited the massive Central High School and its 2,300 students in Rapid City, South Dakota. I had fascinating discussions with the faculty, discussing the importance of such exchanges and how much we still have to learn from each other across such a large and diverse country. It’s not only the oceans that we need to learn about. The assistant principal told me that a few years ago, a fellow teacher from an eastern city had asked her if Indians still live in tee-pees in South Dakota. She informed the individual, “No….they live in houses.” She still can’t believe that such a question could have been asked by a teacher.

Stranded for two days in Fairbanks, I befriended Eskimo families who were also stranded, and learned about their ways, history, and intimate connection to the sea. Finally making it to my destination – the northernmost settlement in North America: Barrow, Alaska – I spent the day with three delightful fourth grade classes, some of them relatives of the families I had met earlier. While outside the temperature plunged to -43 degrees F, the children told me about their customs, including the annual whale hunt.

I spoke to at-risk middle school boys and girls at Boys Town, Nebraska, the school made famous by the 1938 film and from where the famous expression, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” originates. It is a school that continues a rich tradition of helping these children reach their potential.

I visited Elkhart, Indiana as part of an enormous community science/Halloween event known as “Science Spooktacular,” where more than 3,000 students from the area come out to learn about the wonders of science, planet earth, and this year, the oceans. Thanks to the wonderful leadership of Elkhart-based ETHOS (Encouraging Technology and Hands-On Science), the event was a great success and an inspiration to communities across the nation on how to engage schools, students, families and the broader community for an event that’s truly educational and fun.

The event was especially inspirational as Elkhart, Indiana has been one of the hardest hit by the economic crisis, at times topping the national unemployment figures with a rate as high as 16 percent. Pulling off a successful event under such conditions was a monumental feat.

I’ve taught the students I’ve visited about the connections they have to the oceans, even if they’re living more than a thousand miles from the nearest salt water. I’ve shown them how 95 percent of the ocean has yet to be explored, and how it will soon be their turn at the helm – our next Lewises and Clarks! I’ve showed them how their landlocked farming communities might just be farming marine fish some day soon in high-tech, land-based recirculating aquaculture systems, which are a more sustainable alternative to depleting wild fish stocks. And I’ve given them a peek at the next-generation of technology that will take them to the bottom of the sea in Ironman-like pressure suits and deep-flying subs that resemble jet aircraft. A central theme is that careers in science are important and exciting. The Ecology Club at Morrow High, Georgia. The school has had no field trips for 5 years.

The Ecology Club at Morrow High, Georgia. The school has had no field trips for 5 years.

As the students are learning from me, I’m learning doubly from them. With just a quarter of the expedition completed, notes of my experiences and new insights about our schools and students already fill countless pages. Some of my observations were troubling. Unfortunately, young people still know very little about the oceans, and in many parts of the country, are increasingly living lives devoid of any contact with nature. Many of the students I’ve met had no idea about the critical issues facing the oceans, such as overfishing, pollution and the devastating impacts of climate change. In a poor community in Georgia, many students in the local high school have never traveled more than a few miles from home and have had virtually no experience with Mother Nature. The situation is made worse by the fact that the school hasn’t had any field trips in five years. Frustrated, one of the science teachers took students to a small stand of trees behind the school – scarcely more than one would find in the tree island landscaping of a local shopping mall – to do some rudimentary ecological measurements. One of her students thanked her “for taking us into the wilderness.”

Just as I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the wild enthusiasm and love for the oceans, I’ve been troubled to see that such emotions are often accompanied by a nearly equal level of fear. Two young girls in Nebraska didn’t raise their hands when I asked who had never seen the ocean but wanted to. I asked them, “Why not?” They looked at me in disbelief that it wasn’t obvious to me. “Sharks,” they said in unison.

6th Grader Shelby’s petition made it all the way to the U.S. Senate!

Fortunately, much of what I’ve learned has been positive and uplifting. Having spent very little time in the Midwest myself, I’ve been struck by the strong environmental spirit among many students there, born from the many hours they spend outside hunting, fishing and just plain hanging out. They haven’t needed an ocean in their back yard to “get it.” I’ve seen a growing number of students involved in a new generation of green activities, such as ecology clubs and recycling clubs. I haven’t seen this level of interest or engagement since the first Earth Day nearly 40 years ago! I was especially inspired by a sixth grader near Atlanta named Shelby, who started a petition against shark finning, the cruel and unsustainable practice of slicing off a shark’s dorsal fin for shark fin soup, a practice that kills the animal. Her petition made its way all the way to the U.S. Senate in Washington,DC.

My work only begins when I complete a speech at a school. I’ve begun filling 50 bottles (representing each of the 50 states ) with messages from the students I visit, expressing their thoughts, hopes, and dreams about our oceans. I have promised to deliver these bottles to the Administration here in Washington at the completion of the expedition.

Just one of the many notes I’ve collected from students to deliver to Washington, DC

I’m also building a growing online network to connect all of the schools I visit to allow them to share their experiences and perspectives with one another, create their own ocean blogs, and interact with ocean experts to get advice about colleges and careers in science.

I’m giving radio and TV interviews along the way to build awareness about our oceans and science education. And I’m sharing my experiences through speeches at science, education and conservation conferences, and through my OceanDoctor.org posts and photographs.

Getting the word out on Wisconsin Public Radio

I know from my own experiences as a young teenager discovering marine science that the right kind of education experience can leave an enduring awareness and appreciation of the environment and its fragility. Please accept my invitation to join the expedition as one of its supporters and help me continue this unique and important journey of discovery and education to all 50 states. Your donation to The Ocean Foundation’s “Ocean Doctor’s 50 Years – 50 States – 50 Speeches Expedition” will ensure that I can continue to bring the awe and wonder of the ocean to students across the country, and bring their stories to you. Please help me continue to find the ocean in all of US.

Your contribution is 100% tax-deductible and will help to make this effort possible. We’ll also recognize you by optionally displaying your name on the OceanDoctor.org site and printed materials! Use any of the following methods to contribute:

1. Send a Check by Mail

Please make your check payable to “The Ocean Foundation” and indicate that the contribution is to support the “Ocean Doctor’s 50 Years – 50 States – 50 Speeches Expedition Fund” and mail to:

The Ocean Foundation
1990 M Street, N.W., Suite 250
Washington, D.C. 20036
Telephone: (202) 887-8992 or (202) 507-9797
Email: info@oceanfdn.org

2. Online at The Ocean Foundation

Use Your Credit Card via The Ocean Foundation’s Secure Online Donations Page.

3. Online via Facebook

Use Your Credit Card via Facebook’s Cause page for the Expedition.

4. Make a Gift of Stock

The Ocean Foundation is set up to receive donations of stock through Citicorp Investment Services. For additional information, please send an email to The Ocean Foundation at : info@oceanfdn.org or call (202) 887-8992.

On behalf of the thousands of students who will get a chance to learn about the oceans and a future in science, please accept my sincerest thanks.

Sincerely,

David E. Guggenheim, Ph.D., the “Ocean Doctor”
Senior Fellow, The Ocean Foundation

6th Graders in Granville, Ohio

Students in St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands

I hadn’t been to Kansas in 25 years, since my then-girlfriend’s ’72 Dodge Dart broke down at 2 AM square in the middle of our transcontinental journey to San Diego. The dash went dark, the engine quit, and the car silently rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the Interstate. I opened the hood and was greeted by flames, which I somehow managed to blow out, probably with the help of the ever-present midwest winds which were howling that night. They had to wake up a State Trooper to rescue us. Twenty five years later, the winds still howl as I remember them.

I’ve heard friends and colleagues who prefer the coasts and their cities refer to the midwest derogatorily as "flyover country," knowing it only as the patchwork of farmland seen from 37,000 feet, dotted with enormous, colorful circles created by center-pivot irrigation systems. But stopping here long enough to breathe the air, feel the wind, and meet the next-generation of Kansans gave me a far more meaningful and rich perspective about this special place.

Macksville, Kansas is not far from the geographic center of the lower 48, about a 2.5 hour drive from the nearest major airport in Witchita, an unlikely place for a marine biologist to be barreling down the highway, sipping coffee, and mentally preparing to talk about the oceans. I passed miles and miles of farmland and just a handful of gas stations and restaurants along the way. When my GPS announced my arrival, I was greeted by a windswept sign, a small, timeless community of modest homes and winter fields bearing the remnants of the past fall’s crops, swaying with the constant wind.

I received a warm greeting from High School principal, Rusty Wrinkle, and he took me to the classroom of science teacher, Carrie Newdigger, who had invited me to speak. Carrie is no ordinary science teacher. She has made it possible for her students to compete in the National Ocean Sciences Bowl and this year, the National Science Bowl. And last year Carrie came to Washington, DC to be honored. The White House awarded her as a recipient of the Presidential Award for Excellence in Mathematics and Science Teaching for 2007. Awardees are selected from mathematics and science teachers in all 50 states and the District of Columbia and were in the Nation’s capitol from April 28 – May 3, 2008, to receive the award and participate in a variety of educational and celebratory events. Like several others would that day, Carrie welcomed me to the "middle of nowhere." Another teacher asked me why I came to Macksville — after all, there are bigger schools in the cities. I replied, "That’s the point, bringing this kind of program to places where the students wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity."

My first talk of the day would be to the grade school which occupied the northern half of the building complex. Grade School Principal Laura Davis warmly welcomed me and I began to set up in the library for a group of roughly 100 students. The childrens’ clothing spoke to the agricultural focus of the region, as I spotted "John Deer" and other such logos adorning their t-shirts. Though half of the students had never seen the ocean, I was impressed to see how many regularly watched National Geographic, Discovery, and other nature shows — especially Deadliest Catch (if you consider that a nature show) — and held intense interest in the oceans, and the questions came rapid-fire: "What’s your favorite shark?" "What’s the scariest thing that ever happened to you underwater?" "Have you ever been attacked by a shark?"

OK, so perhaps they’ve slightly overdosed on Shark Week, but it gave us a chance to talk about sharks, their bad rap, and how they really have more to fear from us than we do of them — we’ve eliminated nearly 90 percent of the large predatory fish from the oceans — including sharks — over the past 50 years. I told them the story about my days teaching a Girl Scout program at Seacamp in the Florida Keys, which I described in a recent post. On the first day of class I told the terrified girls that we’d be swimming with the (small) sharks in our holding pond on the last day of class a week later. And I remember well that last day of class when the girls were having so much fun swimming with the sharks that I couldn’t get them out. The Macksville students were fascinated that sharks weren’t necessarily something to fear, but to appreciate.

I was treated to my first real school lunch since high school. And it was my favorite — cheeseburgers — served on the same plastic green tray I remembered from so long ago, with little depressions to hold the baked beans, french fries, and dessert. As the cafeteria transformed into an auditorium, I set up once again and this time addressed the entire high school student body — all 100 of them. Like the morning group, half of these students had never seen an ocean before. I was pleased to see lots of the faculty and staff sit in, along with a reporter from the nearby St. John newspaper. Afterwards I told Rusty how impressed I was with the great behavior of the students in both sessions, a feat not easily achieved.

I wasn’t done yet. Carrie invited me back to her classroom to talk with her small group of students preparing for the upcoming Science Bowl, who stayed after school for our chat. What was supposed to be a coaching session for the students became an education for me. I’m grateful to students, Tyler, Justin, Luke and Hannah for sharing their thoughts, dreams and experiences with me. Hannah and Tyler are interested in pursuing science careers relating to animals. Hannah is interested in feedlot nutrition issues. Tyler lives on a farm where they raise cattle, and has enjoyed his travel to livestock shows in Colorado and elsewhere where he’s learned a lot about the field, including genetic selection. He also indicated that he just enjoys listening to all the accents at such events. Justin is seriously entertaining the thought of pursuing a law degree.

The students were shocked to hear me quote a statistic from the book, Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv, which indicates that the average American child spends less than four minutes a day outside in unstructured activities. These students spend hours upon hours outside and love every minute of it. When not involved in farming activities, they’re fishing, hunting and trapping. Tyler talked about how hunting bobcat in Kansas can be lucrative. The furs are sold in Canada and Russia where they’re made into coats. Justin talked about his fishing experiences, though the nearest water bodies are quite some distance. We talked about the possibility of bringing next-generation aquaculture to Kansas and how it might fit well within a community that already knows how to farm.

Our chat ventured into some political areas, like global warming. They asked me pretty directly if I believed global warming was real. I explained that I had been working on the issue since the late 80s, and even back then the vast majority of scientists concurred that human activity was changing our climate. The real "debate" is centered on how much and how fast our climate is changing, which makes setting policies quite challenging. They seemed to accept my perspective, but did take the opportunity to express their concerns about carbon taxes being levied on cattle. To them it seemed absurd to tax cow "emissions." As ruminants, cattle do "emit" a significant amount of methane, which is a much more potent greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. "What about deer? Are they going to tax deer?" asked Justin. Yes, I can definitely see Justin as an attorney. And yes, I can see the bumper stickers, "Vote NO on the Fart Tax"

We moved from global warming to weather, and I suddenly realized I was visiting one of the communities that had been devastated by one of the strongest and most dramatic tornado events ever recorded. An immense tornado nearly two miles wide and measuring EF5 on the Enhanced Fujita scale virtually wiped Greensburg, Kansas from the map shortly before 10 PM on May 4, 2007. Eleven people were killed and more than 50 others were injured. It was one of 22 tornadoes that touched down in southern and central Kansas from the same thunderstorm complex. Macksville, just 25 miles to the northeast of Greensburg, was pummelled by the storm, and the homes and farms of all of the students, and their teacher, had been damaged. Thankfully, Macksville was spared the death toll of Greensburg, but a Macksville police officer was killed responding to the emergency. The students directed me to a spot a few miles south of the center of town where I could still clearly see the unmistakable mark of this unforgiving storm. I saw a small home recently rebuilt among a chaotic tangle of dead trees and branches, their tranquility against the setting sun belying what was an unimaginable fury that evening in May. Tyler, an enthusiastic videographer, put together this thoughtful video (below) that commemorates the event while also expressing their small community’s resiliance.

Video by Tyler, a Macksville High School Student

On my way back to Washington, I peered out of the tiny window at the plains and fields of Kansas far below and I thought about one of my messages to the students: That 40 percent of the continental U.S. drains to the Gulf of Mexico, that even here in the middle of Kansas, smack in the middle of the country, they are connected to the oceans. But I also thought about the messages from the students to me: That though they jokingly refer to themselves as the "middle of nowhere," it is in fact not "nowhere" or "flyover country" at all — it’s a special somewhere that they call home and care deeply about. And they care very much about their future; many of the students I spoke to weren’t in any hurry to move away. They were, however, eager to explore beyond Kansas. When students were raising their hands indicating that they had never seen the oceans, I asked how many of them wanted to see the oceans. All of the hands remained outstretched, high in the air.

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