Every year in March the circus comes to Washington, DC. And they literally parade elephants through the streets on their way to the Verizon Center. This year marks the second year that Tennyson and I have attended the parade. For some reason this usually involves a lot of running. This year was no different. It involved a lot of running and a lot of people staring at me.
The morning of the parade happened to fall on a playschool day. Although I was not on duty, I returned to playschool to help take the kids the 2 blocks down the street to see the elephants. I felt like it was that important. Who doesn't want to see large, live elephants walking through the streets of Capitol Hill? As I ran to see the elephants there were passersby who looked at me in this confused, bewildered way. "Why is this woman running with her kid in such a desperate, feverish way, " they seemed to ask themselves. I felt like shouting to them, "Hello! Don't you know that if you would only move over 2 blocks that you would see live elephants on the street?!" All different kinds of people are looking at me. People in suits. People jogging. People on bikes. People walking their dogs. Some people know what I am doing. They've got their cameras in hand and they are hurriedly walking too. But I am constantly surprised by the amount of people who are acting like it is just any other normal day. Like it is not elephants on parade day. They are obviously not "in the know" about the elephants.
This year the elephant parade made me think about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I ask myself, "What are the spiritual elephants in my life? Do I need to make any 2 or 3 block adjustments?" It's amazing what small moves can do. I think for many of us, if we could just make some small changes in our lives by only a few blocks, that we could receive some very surprising and delightful rewards. Maybe it is some extra time reading the scriptures. Maybe it is some extra time on our knees. Maybe it is some extra time with someone in need.
I'm sure many bystanders come across the parade by chance. And I'm sure this is the conversion story of many people. They came across the gospel by accident. And are so happy when they do.
But for most people they need to be told. Maybe next year when I run through the streets of Capitol Hill I will also yell, "The elephants are coming! The elephants are coming!" Like a crazy person.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Back to Nature
A recent article in Newsweek prompted me to write a response:
Jon Meacham
Editor - Newsweek
251 W. 57th St.
New York, NY 10019
Dear Mr. Meacham,
Jerry Adler made a simplistic verdict in “Out of the Wilderness” while reporting on the recent study on nature-based recreation participation by conservation biologists Oliver Pergams and Patricia Zaradic. Adler’s proposal that a decline in nature-based recreation could be good for the environment because “we’d all do better to give the World a break from us so it can heal on its own” is detached from reality. We live in the world and it cannot escape us any more than we can from it. The key is to model our lives to make the least possible impact on nature, not to avoid nature altogether. Judging from the tone of his article, Adler himself has no real experience in nature. Otherwise he would not have used Yellowstone National Park on Memorial Day as an anecdote. He would know that the park possesses 1,300 miles of backcountry trails, most of which are used by only a handful of people every year, making it quite easy to find a “little world” all to oneself, even on Memorial Day. There are many ways to experience nature but the sincerest forms require effort, like getting out of your car (or boat, Miss Browning).
The liberal and environmental movements have long joined forces in the noble cause of protecting the earth. Yet that partnership has now produced a pseudo-environmentalism that has been propagated by self-satisfied, bumper sticker environmentalists who believe environmentalism is about letting the earth “heal on its own”. Pergams and Zaradic are worried about the loss of another kind of environmentalism, one contemplated by John Burroughs, the great early-American conservation movement leader, when he penned, “I go to the woods to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” Family hikes through mountains where children learn to pack their trash out on their backs and leave campsites better than they were found produce this kind of environmentalism. This environmentalism is fostered by the magic of coming face to face with an ancient and endangered Desert Tortoise in its own habitat. Meaningful environmentalism believes we will be better prepared to heal the world once we have allowed the world to heal us.
Sincerely,
Suzanne Stewart
Jon Meacham
Editor - Newsweek
251 W. 57th St.
New York, NY 10019
Dear Mr. Meacham,
Jerry Adler made a simplistic verdict in “Out of the Wilderness” while reporting on the recent study on nature-based recreation participation by conservation biologists Oliver Pergams and Patricia Zaradic. Adler’s proposal that a decline in nature-based recreation could be good for the environment because “we’d all do better to give the World a break from us so it can heal on its own” is detached from reality. We live in the world and it cannot escape us any more than we can from it. The key is to model our lives to make the least possible impact on nature, not to avoid nature altogether. Judging from the tone of his article, Adler himself has no real experience in nature. Otherwise he would not have used Yellowstone National Park on Memorial Day as an anecdote. He would know that the park possesses 1,300 miles of backcountry trails, most of which are used by only a handful of people every year, making it quite easy to find a “little world” all to oneself, even on Memorial Day. There are many ways to experience nature but the sincerest forms require effort, like getting out of your car (or boat, Miss Browning).
The liberal and environmental movements have long joined forces in the noble cause of protecting the earth. Yet that partnership has now produced a pseudo-environmentalism that has been propagated by self-satisfied, bumper sticker environmentalists who believe environmentalism is about letting the earth “heal on its own”. Pergams and Zaradic are worried about the loss of another kind of environmentalism, one contemplated by John Burroughs, the great early-American conservation movement leader, when he penned, “I go to the woods to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” Family hikes through mountains where children learn to pack their trash out on their backs and leave campsites better than they were found produce this kind of environmentalism. This environmentalism is fostered by the magic of coming face to face with an ancient and endangered Desert Tortoise in its own habitat. Meaningful environmentalism believes we will be better prepared to heal the world once we have allowed the world to heal us.
Sincerely,
Suzanne Stewart
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Quack Quack . . . Quack Quack Quack
It seems like ducks have been entering my life a lot lately. I don't know if it is just because I am a mother to a 7 month-old baby or if they really are infiltrating my life somehow. Before Tennyson I never really seemed to notice them much. But now they are in my bath tub. Sometimes they ARE the bathtub in the case of the baby tub I borrowed from Tennyson's cousin. It is a blow-up baby tub in the shape of a duck. It is yellow and if you squeeze the bill of the duck, it goes, "Quack Quack . . . Quack Quack Quack." Tennyson is sure to giggle every time. As ridiculous as I thought it was the first time I saw it, it is a definite crowd pleaser. I am learning that the ridiculous is the key to raising a baby. . . but back to the subject.
I see ducks at the park. One day I saw a duck hanging out at the SEC. But my latest duck encounter was at the local pizzeria.
A couple of weeks ago I went for a morning stroll with Tennyson. We came around the corner to find a small gathering of people circling the patio at Armand's Pizza. The group was made up of what looked to be young, female, hill staffers and Latino landscape workers. At first I didn't know what they were looking at and then I saw them, cute as can be.
"Aww. How sweet! A mother duck with 3 little ducklings! Look Tennyson, look at the duckies! Quack, quack . . . quack, quack, quack."
Tennyson seemed unimpressed. But I continued to use the excuse that my child might be interested in the ducks in order to continue to be apart of the spectacle. I came to find out the ladies were dutifully coralling the ducks in Armand's patio and had enlisted the neighboring landscape workers to flank them in order to protect them from the local traffic on Massachusetts Avenue. "They were almost run over. So we got them to come here." One girl told me. "We have called animal control to see if someone can come get them." "Okay," I thought, "that seems reasonable." So Tennyson and I continued on our way.
We strolled through Senate Park and made our way to the nearby pond. Senate employees were working on the sprinkler system and I saw a professional woman in a skirt suit with a cell phone in hand asking one of the employees, "So do ducks ever come here?" He answered that yes they do. And in fact at that moment I saw a duck waddling in the trees. The professional woman relayed all the information back on her cell phone.
Hmmm. One time a duck made a nest in the flower bed of my mother-in-law's front yard. She was a very protective mother duck. Then one day she was gone. She had taken her ducklings to the nearby canal.
"Well we have a situation here. We have a mother duck and she has got baby ducklings and we are trying to get them to a safe location." the professional woman said. And I loved his answer. "Well, just leave them alone and they'll make their way over." Brilliant. I jumped in, "I saw those ducks, they are at Armand's. But what if they get run over by a car?" To this he responded, "These are DC ducks. They'll be okay." Hmmm. I looked down at Tennyson slumped in his stroller. He looked up at me. I knew a little something about motherly instict.
Near the end of our stroll I passed by Armand's. The mother duck and her ducklings had been chased to the far corner of the patio. Umbrellas had been set up as a fence to prevent them from fleeing. A plastic salad tray was filled with water and the ladies were tossing them bread. I was informed that a number of different agencies had been notified but that they were having jurisidictional conflicts. Apparently the ducks were under the National Park Service care but the ducks were protected under some other administrative agency law. Another lady appeared with her cell phone and said another agency told her that the current approach was too "threatening" to the ducks and that they were being told to "back-off". They could be coralled in the patio but not into the corner with umbrellas. I asked them if they didn't need to get to work. I had assumed they were staffers on the hill. They were not staffers. They worked at the headquarters of the Humane Society of the United States.
Quack Quack . . . Quack Quack Quack
I see ducks at the park. One day I saw a duck hanging out at the SEC. But my latest duck encounter was at the local pizzeria.
A couple of weeks ago I went for a morning stroll with Tennyson. We came around the corner to find a small gathering of people circling the patio at Armand's Pizza. The group was made up of what looked to be young, female, hill staffers and Latino landscape workers. At first I didn't know what they were looking at and then I saw them, cute as can be.
"Aww. How sweet! A mother duck with 3 little ducklings! Look Tennyson, look at the duckies! Quack, quack . . . quack, quack, quack."
Tennyson seemed unimpressed. But I continued to use the excuse that my child might be interested in the ducks in order to continue to be apart of the spectacle. I came to find out the ladies were dutifully coralling the ducks in Armand's patio and had enlisted the neighboring landscape workers to flank them in order to protect them from the local traffic on Massachusetts Avenue. "They were almost run over. So we got them to come here." One girl told me. "We have called animal control to see if someone can come get them." "Okay," I thought, "that seems reasonable." So Tennyson and I continued on our way.
We strolled through Senate Park and made our way to the nearby pond. Senate employees were working on the sprinkler system and I saw a professional woman in a skirt suit with a cell phone in hand asking one of the employees, "So do ducks ever come here?" He answered that yes they do. And in fact at that moment I saw a duck waddling in the trees. The professional woman relayed all the information back on her cell phone.
Hmmm. One time a duck made a nest in the flower bed of my mother-in-law's front yard. She was a very protective mother duck. Then one day she was gone. She had taken her ducklings to the nearby canal.
"Well we have a situation here. We have a mother duck and she has got baby ducklings and we are trying to get them to a safe location." the professional woman said. And I loved his answer. "Well, just leave them alone and they'll make their way over." Brilliant. I jumped in, "I saw those ducks, they are at Armand's. But what if they get run over by a car?" To this he responded, "These are DC ducks. They'll be okay." Hmmm. I looked down at Tennyson slumped in his stroller. He looked up at me. I knew a little something about motherly instict.
Near the end of our stroll I passed by Armand's. The mother duck and her ducklings had been chased to the far corner of the patio. Umbrellas had been set up as a fence to prevent them from fleeing. A plastic salad tray was filled with water and the ladies were tossing them bread. I was informed that a number of different agencies had been notified but that they were having jurisidictional conflicts. Apparently the ducks were under the National Park Service care but the ducks were protected under some other administrative agency law. Another lady appeared with her cell phone and said another agency told her that the current approach was too "threatening" to the ducks and that they were being told to "back-off". They could be coralled in the patio but not into the corner with umbrellas. I asked them if they didn't need to get to work. I had assumed they were staffers on the hill. They were not staffers. They worked at the headquarters of the Humane Society of the United States.
Quack Quack . . . Quack Quack Quack
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