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

[geo_mashup_map]

[geo_mashup_map]

[geo_mashup_map]

Leg 2 was going far too smoothly. My flight to Tampa was early. The rental car bus arrived immediately. I didn’t get lost. The sun was shining. Maybe you’re like me, but when things start going this well, I get nervous. Turns out my gut feelings were right. Things were about to get…silly.

Like the expedition’s first leg to California, Leg 2 was also to familiar territory, to a state I had once called home: Florida. My many years in Florida, teaching at Seacamp in the Florida Keys, as president of The Conservancy of Southwest Florida in Naples, and co-chair of the Everglades Coalition, means that I’ll be returning here twice more to honor the flood of speaking requests I was honored to receive.

I hadn’t seen Kelly Samek in several years, since she had been the organizer of the Public Interest Environmental Conference (PIEC) at the University of Florida’s Levin College of Law. PIEC is a remarkable event, now in its 15th year, where attorneys and other professionals from around the state and beyond gather to shed their pinstripes, roll up their sleeves, and speak with brutal honesty and fervent passion about protecting what’s most special about Florida — its incredible natural heritage. PIEC is also admired for its notable parties, some of which are reminiscent of hippie days gone by. I was honored to be keynote speaker at PIEC several years ago, but the highlight for me was meeting author, Carl Hiaason, whose acid humor has done as much to raise awareness about Florida’s treasured environment and outrageous politics as any advocacy group.

Kelly had since gone to Tallahassee and was working for the Florida Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) in the Office of General Counsel, working on the front lines of land use law and endless controversial issues spawned as greed and backhoes continued to collide with cypress and woodstorks against the backdrop of the largest environmental restoration ever attempted in human history: The $10 billion restoration of the Everglades. Overworked and underpaid, Kelly was as energetic and optimistic as I remembered her, still sporting her good natured sense of humor, including the delightful shark badge riding on the back of her Toyota.

We spoke by cell phone as I made my way to the teaching auditorium, which I found was still occupied 20 minutes before show time. The news from Kelly wasn’t good: "The auditorium is double-booked." Turns out she was only half correct. It was actually quadruple-booked! It had been many years, but based on the shouting, jumping and hand waving I was seeing through the crack in the doors, I was pretty sure I was witnessing a Friday evening screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. A young student approached and told me she was supposed to be screening the Hitchcock classic, Dial M for Murder in the same room. And I learned later that some sort of circus program also laid claim to the room. My watch indicated 15 mintues before 7pm, our scheduled show time. In 2007 I had given an impromptu PowerPoint presentation to fishermen at the Dutch Harbor (Alaska) Airport, holding my laptop above my head — hopefully this wouldn’t be the case again here.

My new Hitchcock friend disappeared into the darkened room to see if she could plead my case. Miraculously, I saw the fluorescent lights illuminate a few moments later, and she emerged, telling me that the Rocky Horror folks would take their performance elsewhere. And so would she. In moments, the hall was empty, with 10 minutes to spare! The circus group never arrived, but fortunately Kelly and our attendees did, a wonderful mix of Kelly’s Coastal Law and Policy and other students from New College, along with senior volunteers from nearby Mote Marine Laboratory, an organization I have worked closely with for decades, including our current work in Cuba.

I wrestled with a rat’s nest of unfamiliar wires and managed to get an image on the screen. The projector was so weak that it was necessary to kill every light to make it visible to the audience. "Actually, this is appropriate." I said, thanking the audience for their patience as the program finally started, "Most of the planet’s life lives in the oceans, and most of it lives in complete darkness." As latecomers stumbled through the aisles, feeling their way to find their seats, I launched into an hour-long presentation.

When the lights painfully came back on, I was happy to see the size of the audience had grown and no one was asleep. This was a group that knew its stuff about the oceans — the Gulf was practically within spitting distance. Students asked me questions about coastal issues, and we talked about how in Florida, land and water are inextricably linked…what happens on land ultimately expresses itself in Florida’s coastal waters. And I was delighted to speak with a student named Catie, who is deeply inspired about the oceans. I told her about the newest partner to "join" the expedition, Our World – Underwater Scholarship Society, which awards incredible scholarships to college-aged students (freshman to recent graduates) to travel the world for a year studying with the A-list of ocean experts.

Kelly and I had a chance to catch up afterwards, and here again, another of my colleagues in the environmental world, overflowing with tireless commitment and dedication, was using her vacation time to advance the cause, in this case teaching Coastal Law and Policy at New College. How lucky her students are, and how lucky all of us are that even in tough times, such a spirit endures. During my introduction, I told the Mote volunteers how much I missed the hundreds of volunteers I worked along side of at The Conservancy of Southwest Florida. As with many nonprofits, it truly would have been impossible to do anything without them. One of the attributes of the U.S. that the world marvels at is the strength of our volunteerism, and I expect that as we forge through difficult months ahead, we’ll see even more clearly just how important the strong hand and caring heart of the volunteer is to all of us.