David Suzuki

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David Suzuki Page 24

by David Suzuki


  Michael Robinson, current chief executive officer of the Glenbow Museum in Calgary, Alberta, has had a lot of experience with PAR and advised us in a series of workshops on the method. Tara began to discuss the PAR process with elders and leaders, taking other advisers into the villages with her. She developed an all-female team that besides herself included an economist and former head of the Vancouver Stock Exchange, Ros Kunin; a lawyer and now judge, Jane Woodward; a PAR expert, Joan Ryan, and a politically experienced First Nations member from Yukon, Lula Johns. People began to refer to them affectionately as the Spice Girls.

  As Tara became a familiar visitor in the communities, we began to learn what priorities each village had. The first community to which we sent a PAR worker was Nemiah, a village on the east side of the coastal mountains. The Xeni Gwet'in (Nemiah) people's territory in the drier Chilcotin Plateau includes the headwaters of some of the richest sock-eye runs on the coast. Nemiah is about a four-hour drive on dirt roads from the town of Williams Lake.

  Several people applied for the par position, and the band chose Roberta Martell, a garrulous, energetic, and tough young woman who had the drive to achieve all we and the community had hoped for and more. One of her first recommendations was to establish a community-owned laundromat in Nemiah. She started a community garden to provide fresh vegetables and organized the building of two straw-bale houses that were cheaper, more energy efficient, and of better quality than the kinds of homes built for the community under government cost allowances. She recognized the tradition of horse riding presented an economic opportunity to establish trips for tourists.

  The par team in Nemiah. Left to right: Roberta Martell, Bonnie Meyers, Maryann Solomon, and Francy Merritt.

  Roberta's greatest achievement was to recognize three young women who had the energy, vision, and connections to continue the process of economic development after she left. A film was made about the Nemiah project and broadcast internationally.

  WHEN JIM FULTON ASSIGNED Tara to be a diplomat, he spoke of the need for coastal First Nations to unite in recognition of common values and goals if the fish and forests of B.C. were to be sustained. Both Tara and I knew such an initiative would have to come from the First Nations themselves, and while Tara worked on community economic development issues, we watched to see if it would be forthcoming. Tara knew our limited resources could not create jobs on the necessary scale: we hoped leverage could come when a powerfully united coast met with government.

  In British Columbia, most First Nations are represented in what's called the B.C. First Nations Summit; delegates meet in Vancouver regularly to discuss issues of mutual interest. In the fall of 1999, timing our overture to coincide with a summit meeting, we invited leaders from the communities Tara had been visiting to meet us and each other to discuss some forestry information. Almost all accepted our invitation.

  At the meeting, Art Sterritt from the Gitga'at community of Hartley Bay, and Gerald Amos of Kitamaat village, seconded by several others, commented on the novelty and significance of the gathering and suggested the DSF call a conference of all communities in the central and north coast and Haida Gwaii. We were delighted to do so. We invited the eleven communities, plus Nemiah, to a two-day meeting at the Musqueam Reserve in Vancouver in March 2000 and raised the money to pay all expenses. Members from all twelve communities attended.

  After a prayer and welcome from the Musqueam hosts, each attendee made a statement about what he or she was most concerned about and hoped might result from this gathering. To commemorate the millennium, the meeting was called Turning Point. As these tremendously competent elders and leaders spoke, it was clear they had open hearts, and I felt they were desperate to be heard by us. Discussions ensued, and there were tribal differences about historical disagreements and overlapping territory, but all continued work to define various challenges and ponder a unified approach. One discussion group drafted the powerful declaration:

  Declaration of First Nations of the North Pacific Coast

  PREAMBLE

  The North Pacific Coast is a rich, varied and fragile part of the

  natural world.

  The connection between land and sea with people has given rise

  to our ancient northwest cultures.

  We recognize this life source is under threat like never before and

  that all people must be held accountable.

  This united declaration is the foundation for protecting and

  restoring our culture and the natural world.

  We are the ones that will live with the consequences of any actions

  that will take place in our territories.

  DECLARATION

  We declare our life source is vital to the sustenance and livelihood

  of our culture and our very existence as a people.

  The First Nations of the North Pacific Coast inherit the responsibility

  to protect and restore our lands, water and air for future

  generations.

  We commit ourselves:

  • to making decisions that ensure the well-being of our lands and waters.

  • to preserving and renewing our territories and cultures

  through our tradition, knowledge and authority.

  • to be honest with each other and respectful of all life.

  We will support each other and work together as the original people

  of the North Pacific Coast, standing together to fulfill these

  commitments.

  The DSF attended Turning Point in a supportive role, providing funding, organization, research, and contacts. We made it clear that while we believed the land belonged to the First Nations communities and supported their struggle to have that ownership recognized by government, we wanted the forest and marine ecosystems in which they dwell to remain healthy and productive in perpetuity. People have lived there for thousands of years and need those resources to make a living; parks that exclude First Nations use of the land are not a solution. Our outlook differed from those of environmental groups who just sought more “acres” of parks and protected areas.

  We organized and funded many more Turning Point conferences. We brought in First Nations people whose land claims had been settled, to speak of what happened after. As the union strengthened, we worked hard organizing countless separate meetings with forestry companies, mayors of coastal communities, tourism operators, loggers, truckers, government officials, and other environmental groups, who all began to recognize and support the power of the Turning Point process and participants.

  The New Democrat provincial government was under pressure to come to some kind of accommodation because the forestry companies knew that until land-title issues were settled, logging in the central to north coast forests would be increasingly contentious. On April 4, 2001, Premier Ujjal Dosanjh signed two documents, one of which set in motion negotiations with the provincial and federal governments and the Turning Point communities on what was termed a government to government to government basis. It was an acknowledgement that the First Nations and the “stakeholders” had legitimate rights.

  As the Turning Point organization grew in strength, the foundation's role diminished, and eventually it was time to disengage ourselves. In September 2003, in a formal celebration in Skidegate village on Haida Gwaii, we were thanked and farewells were made. The DSF received a drum, symbol of the heartbeat of the people, and we gave each community a gift of fossilized cedar leaves, a symbol of tenacity and survival.

  The foundation moved on with its many other projects, but Tara and I had made friendships and developed relationships that continue today and that we will cherish for our lifetimes.

  A POSTSCRIPT LED TO one of the most painful episodes of my adult life. When the David Suzuki Foundation agreed to complete independence for Turning Point from our list of projects, the major funder of that initiative expressed a reluctance to transfer its funds directly to Turning Point. We had worked closely with the Lannan Foundation f
or years, but Turning Point was a newly independent organization without a track record; the funder wanted to continue contributing through DSF. We would be responsible for how those funds were used by Turning Point. Jim knew this was not wise and asked the funder to give directly to Turning Point, but this was not an option. Reluctantly, we agreed to handle the funds and carry out “due diligence” with Turning Point.

  When we initially set ourselves up as a double-barreled organization in 1991, the project-based institute arm had chafed under the limits imposed by the fund-raising foundation arm. Now DSF staff found themselves in the position of being like the hated government “Indian agents” of the past, giving the money but making Turning Point jump through hoops as required by Revenue Canada.

  Unfortunately, we were in the midst of the long, drawn-out federal audits of every dime of our spending that have plagued us in recent years and cost the DSF over $100,000. We had to be equally demanding of Turning Point. Moreover, we had to ensure the funder's wishes were carried out.

  Inevitably, this arrangement led to an explosive confrontation and a formal severing of ties between our two organizations. For DSF, it meant relief from the burden of legal responsibility for those funds and being the bad guy demanding accounting, but the bitter resentment at the role we played is a painful legacy of what remains one of our proudest achievements.

  PERHAPS THE MOST FREQUENT question I'm asked after I give a speech is, “What can I do?” We used to say, “Think globally and act locally,” but in my experience problems seem so immense that individuals contemplating them feel insignificant and helpless. The slogan disempowers, rather than motivates. The eminent philosopher-priest Thomas Berry suggests that to be effective globally, we must think and act locally, and I agree.

  In the late '90s, the DSF contacted the Union of Concerned Scientists, an influential group of scientists in the U.S. who had developed a list of suggested activities to reduce our ecological footprint. We worked with them to modify their suggestions, numbers, and analysis for Canada.

  Each of us affects nature—air, water, soil, energy, other species—through what we eat, how we move about, and where we live. Focusing on food, transportation, and housing, the Union of Concerned Scientists and the DSF came up with ten of the most effective things individuals can do. When I first read the list, I threw it aside and exclaimed, “Come on, get serious. This is too easy!” But Ann Rowan, who was heading the project, showed me the scientific rationale underlying each suggestion and convinced me.

  We called these ten steps the Nature Challenge and asked Canadians to make a commitment to implement at least three of them in the year ahead:

  1. Reduce home energy use by 10 percent

  2. Choose energy-efficient home and appliances

  3. Don't use pesticides

  4. Eat meat-free meals one day a week

  5. Buy locally grown and produced food

  6. Choose a fuel-efficient vehicle

  7. Walk, bike, carpool or take public transit one day a week

  8. Choose a home close to work or school

  9. Support alternative transportation

  10. Learn more and share information with others

  We kicked off the project at events in six Canadian cities: Toronto, London, Montreal, Winnipeg, Calgary, and Vancouver. Each event was sold out, thanks to performances by comedians, musicians, and other celebrities, including some in the media. Tara and I both spoke, and we tried to sign up as many people as possible to do their bit to make a difference. It's working: the current number as I write is more than 140,000, including dozens of mayors, entire city councils, and premiers—with thousands of constituents signing on, no politician could refuse to do something concrete as well.

  THE DSF INITIATIVE FOR which we have the highest hopes is Sustainability Within A Generation (SWAG), the name adopted from the title of a report we commissioned in 2003.

  David Boyd is a lawyer who headed the Sierra Legal Defence Fund in Vancouver. He is now an adjunct professor at the University of Victoria in B.C.'s capital city and a writer who covers environmental issues from a legal standpoint. His book Unnatural Law explores the way different countries have legislated environmental protection. Though polls indicate the environment is the major concern of Canadians, Boyd found Canada ranks near the bottom in related legislation and performance: it is number 28 out of 30 nations in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. Only Belgium and the United States rate lower.

  The DSF contracted David to write a document suggesting how society might achieve sustainability in areas such as waste, energy, food, and water. He cut through divisive issues and came up with a remarkable report that arose from a simple question: what kind of country do we want a generation from now? Do we want a land where the air is clean and there are no longer epidemic levels of asthma? Of course. Do we want to be able to drink water from any lake or river? Naturally. Do we want to catch a fish and eat it without having to worry about contaminants? Sure. Everyone agrees with these goals, so now we have consensus and a target that gives us direction.

  If we know that in the long term we want to achieve sustainability, it is helpful to choose a target date. David chose the year 2030 and then divided society's needs into nine areas:

  Generating genuine wealth

  Improving efficiency

  Shifting to clean energy

  Reducing waste and pollution

  Protecting and conserving water

  Producing healthy food

  Conserving, protecting, and restoring Canadian nature

  Building sustainable cities

  Promoting global sustainability

  In Boyd's analysis, it is possible to achieve sustainability in each area if we begin to work toward it immediately and aim to reach concrete targets set within specific time frames. The report “Sustainability Within A Generation” has garnered a positive response; when Jim Fulton and I presented it to Canadian prime minister Paul Martin in February 2004, we learned he had already read it and enthusiastically embraced it. He promised to try to exceed our targets in all areas but one—energy.

  We had recommended that subsidies to the fossil fuel industry be stopped. The prime minister admitted frankly that such a step would have huge political ramifications in oil-rich Alberta and couldn't be taken. But he did promise to try to level the playing field for renewable energy sources, to which he did commit a billion dollars from the sale of the government-owned oil company, Petro-Canada. After our meeting, the prime minister sent the document to senior bureaucrats with instructions to see how the recommendations could be embedded in government infrastructure, which would ensure that even with changing governments, the basic goal would remain in place.

  David Boyd was appointed in 2004 on a contract to advise the Privy Council of Canada, a high-powered body of advisers to the government, where he met regularly with senior civil servants. Politicians change, whereas bureaucrats remain; if civil servants embrace the principles of “Sustainability Within A Generation,” they could help shift government infrastructure and attitude.

  The Board of the David Suzuki Foundation. Left to right: Severn, Wade Davis, me, Mike Robinson, Tara, Peter Steele, Ray Anderson, Stephen Bronfman, Jim Hoggan, and Jim Fulton. (Absent: Stephanie Green and Miles Richardson.)

  I also presented the report to the Federation of Canadian Municipalities in Ottawa to a very positive reception. The Australian Conservation Foundation is now writing an Aussie version of SWAG.

  In November 2005, John deCuevas, a colleague of Tara's when she taught at Harvard, invited a group of thirty-five funders, scientists, environmentalists, and activists to meet us for a dinner and then spend the following day in discussion at Harvard's Faculty Club. I presented “Sustainability Within A Generation,” which was embraced with enthusiasm. The group recommended that the DSF document be Americanized, and two researchers have been hired to work on this. The group wants to put together a blue-ribbon panel of scientists, economists, athl
etes, celebrities, and politicians to be ambassadors for SWAG.

  “Sustainability Within A Generation” has been a galvanizing and unifying focus within the foundation because all of our projects are tied to the goal of sustainability within its 2030 time frame.

  WHEN THE RADIO SERIES It's a Matter of Survival was broadcast in 1988, I was overwhelmed by the speed with which the planet was undergoing human-caused degradation. Since the foundation opened its doors, the signs of danger have been rising.

  Human beings are not specially gifted in speed, strength, size, or sensory acuity compared with the other animals we evolved with on the African plains. Our great evolutionary feature was our brain, which conferred memory, curiosity, and inventiveness that more than compensated for our lack of physical attributes. Foresight, the ability to look ahead and recognize both dangers and opportunities, guided us into the future. That was what got us to this moment in time, when we are the most numerous, powerful, and demanding mammal on Earth.

  We have been repeatedly warned that we are on a dangerous path. We must not turn our backs on the core survival strategy of our species by subordinating ecological concerns to the demands of the economy, political feasibility, and personal ambition.

  The battle to save Mother Earth remains urgent and must continue.

  chapter THIRTEEN

  RIO AND THE EARTH SUMMIT

  IN 1991, SOON AFTER we had established the David Suzuki Foundation, we heard that the Earth Summit was to be held in Rio de Janeiro in June 1992. The American zoologist Rachel Carson in 1962 had published her ground-breaking book Silent Spring, about the unexpected consequences of pesticides, and the environmental movement had grown spectacularly through the 1970s and '80s.

 

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