The Nose on Aurora's Face by K.Linda Kivi

What is it that divides humans into those who attempt to live with ecological integrity and those who don’t? A strong sense of place? A compassionate giving nature? The way we are raised (see Jan. 18 blog entry)? A culture of conservation?

This is, of course, the million dollar question. If we had an answer for this one, we could be far more effective in changing the course of environmental destruction currently underway. My time in Aurora, Ontario, has been fascinating in that I’ve been living among people who’s environmental ethic seems to begin and end with filling up many blue boxes worth of recycling a week. These boxes get put out weekly alongside piles of usable appliances, furniture, sporting gear, electronics, toilets, etc., as well as bags and bags of garbage. I really have no idea of where to begin a conversation within my neighbourhood where there seems to be no qualms about waste and consumption, be it in the form of “trash”, gas-guzzling vehicles or monster houses.

So, I’ve been following the local story of the Nokaiidaa Trail and one woman, Heidi Stoecklin’s, campaign to keep the trail from going through the local McKenzie Wetlands with curiosity. As someone from rural BC who is accustomed to large areas of wilderness, I’ve asked myself, what’s the big deal? Why is Heidi so passionate about this one little patch of swamp? And where does she get the energy and patience to attempt a conversation of this kind with clearly clueless politicians and public? Or perhaps it would be fairer to say that they are not clueless so much as holding values that have little to nothing to do with ecological or social integrity. Part of me thinks: why bother talking to these people anyway?

With that attitude, it was easy for me to dismiss the McKenzie Wetlands campaign as a waste of time. It’s just a tiny remnant of an ecosystem anyway that has been battered and fragmented beyond viability. Like some of Aurora’s residents and politicians, I asked myself what difference would a little boardwalk through a tiny wetland make, the whole area is surrounded by the suburbia of World Wreckers anyway?

The letter to the editor of the local Auroran newspaper that I finally wrote and sent, more as a tribute and encouragement to Heidi than anything else, outlines the ecological services provided by wetlands and pointed out, the obvious, that humans are part of that greater ecology. But surely these people know that? Then why don’t they live as if they understood the implications of their behaviour?

Equally puzzling, though more laudable, is what motivates Heidi to keep on attending the meetings, write letters to the editor each week that basically say: look, you have a nose on your face? And: look, how much money are you spending trying to convince your face it doesn’t have a nose? Meanwhile, the politicians seem to be unwilling to look her in the face, nose or no nose.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Heidi is a gift to Aurora. Every community needs its Heidi, someone who’s willing to take the time and put in the energy it takes, with such grace and respect, regardless of the outcome. Heidi is starting where she is. She’s starting where the people of Aurora are at. She’s starting with a microcosm of the larger ills and insisting that people listen. We can only hope that some of them will hear. One thing is certain: if she doesn’t speak up, nobody will hear. And at this point, until we figure out what the magic formula is, simple, heartfelt, insistent communication is still all we have to go on. Maybe the act of speaking to one another is what creates a common language.

Where does that leave me? Not sure. My investment in this community is small. My commitment here is to caring for my ailing parents. All my actions, prior to this letter to the editor have been small and covert. The one conversation I had with an Auroran – a very nice, smart man in my meditation group - about the state of waste in the neighbourhood was met with: oh, I haven’t noticed. And: you can’t sell used furniture any more, so we have to put it out in the garbage. Sigh. But what happens to me and my integrity when I choose not to engage, but simmer in my disgust and despair instead?

Any ideas?