“How do small insects defend themselves in such a huge jungle?" a five-year old asked in amazement as I escorted 30 young Sanctuary Cub Club children a quarter way up the Yewoor Trail in the rain-drenched forests of Borivli, Mumbai. "Won’t these ants drown?” asked a tiny girl, wearing gumboots almost as large as her. "I heard that ants can talk to each other and warn each other of danger in advance," responded a sage 13-year-old veteran of many such walks, by way of explanation, before I could open my mouth.
I am not a zoologist, botanist or entomologist, but years of associating with experts in the field has taught me enough to get by with a combination of answers involving chemistry, biology and philosophy. And, when I am well and truly stumped, I say so in so many words and promise my young wards that I will soon get back to them with answers after consulting more knowledgeable experts.
Young people are amazing. Take kids out of their urban environment and each one of them turns into an intrepid explorer. Sounds, smells and touch trigger almost constant voyages of discovery. Each time I put forward an explanation I can virtually see young minds whirring and ticking, evaluating and digesting the information proffered.
One of the greatest pleasures in life is to watch a curious child’s expression change from frowningly quizzical to elated discovery on uncovering a plain truth: “the eye spots on the butterfly wing help to scare away bigger creatures.” Another pleasure is sitting for hours at home in search of answers to questions from kids that have stumped me in the field: “If the rain washes away the scent of flowers then how do insects find flowers when it rains?”
I love children. I enjoy interacting with them. They are my reward for having to do battle with the army of dismal ones that I must interact with on a daily basis who “know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.” Like the scientist in charge of a key department in the Ministry of Environment (so much power, so little wisdom or caring) who said that a thermal plant spewing out 40 tonnes of sulphur per day was doing India a service because: “Indian soils are deficient in sulphur and money should not therefore be wasted on a desulphurisation plant.”
I make it a point to talk with eight or ten thousand children each year by way of large and small meetings, slide shows, assemblies in schools and other such programmes organised by good people around the country. The more questions they ask, the more lessons they learn, the deeper becomes their involvement with nature.
Filled with hope and positive energy children recharge my depleted batteries. In fact, when parents express their gratitude for invitations to public functions Sanctuary Cub regularly organises I respond by saying: “I should be thanking you! I feel a sense of possession over your children. I am hungry to influence their minds in favour of nature and I refuel my own purpose and resolve by tapping shamelessly into their optimism.”
There is, of course, another wonderful by-product of investing time in young persons – like ducklings that grow up to be swans, they quickly grow up to take charge of things! There are some very bright young journalists who said to me that they first got involved with nature through Sanctuary Cub, a magazine for young naturalists. That sort of makes all the trials and tribulations worth it!
Another hidden agenda in working with kids is the fact that it is much, much easier to communicate with adults when a child is the medium. A surprisingly large number of fathers and mothers -- who might otherwise never spare the time to bone up on mantids and chameleons -- turn up at our slide shows and nature walks. Many are now our best communicators and strategists for nature conservation.
Anyone who works with them will confirm that children respond instinctively to nature and are capable of assimilating even very complicated concepts provided you dispense with jargon and convoluted arguments. It is more than enough to say: “Pollution kills dolphins” or “plastic bags kill turtles”. They understand this and believe this because they can smell the truth.
Clearly this is why the Animal Planet, Discovery, BBC Wildlife and the National Geographic Channels have become so popular, so fast, and why Cub and Sanctuary magazines are such a hit with children.
It’s a different world today from the one we grew up in. I believe in the age of television children are more aware than ever before. In Delhi, when children’s rights groups met up with teachers and parents to discuss the issue of child labour employed to make firecrackers, one of the nation’s most effective consumer boycotts was set into motion. Children refused to buy crackers and this forced many unscrupulous manufacturers to close down. The sale of firecrackers dropped by 50 per cent and the city was less polluted. All thanks to kids.
In the past few years I have been in touch with more than 1,000 schools in India through the wildlife magazines I edit, in an effort to expose young children to key campaigns with which their own future is inextricably linked. In the process, our team has been directly in touch with literally thousands of dedicated teachers from large and small schools spread across 30 cities.
They have been pointing out, for instance, that the rigid exam system that causes so much stress among parents and students is not working. That the pressure to "perform" is taking away from the quality of children's learning, indeed their childhood. They ask for changes that involve less structured gauges to measure the progress of their wards. They advise that the purpose of schooling should be the development of knowledge, not merely the dissemination of information.
Our policy makers seem deaf, blind and mute to such developments, just as they are to so many other non-income generating issues, such as environmental protection and health. It is in such circumstances that people like us must approach schools to ask for help in communicating matters such as the impact of deforestation, pollution, human rights and preventive health. Amazingly, without exception, principals and teachers welcomed us with open arms when we asked for their involvement with our "Save the Tiger" campaign. Or for campaigns against child labour and pollution, which firework factories exploit mercilessly.
Far from being resentful at the extra burden this placed on their time and energy, all teachers seemed grateful for the chance to impart what they called "real education" to their wards.
Nature conservation is nothing other than good long-term economics. This was a fact well known to our elders. But who is to teach such lessons to the upstart politicians who mismanage India today? Alongside the desire to save our wilderness areas, this is possibly the most ambitious quest that wildlifers and conservationists will have to embark on in the new millennium.
Photo Credits: Anish Andheria |