学进去

I always listen to my local public radio station while I’m driving. My focus often changes as I stare out at the road ahead. But I became fully attentive on a recent morning once I realized the entire newscast was dedicated to local wildlife.

There was something about the pack of some 30 to 50 javelinas (野猪) that ruined a golf course near Sedona, Arizona, followed by talk of the recent sighting of a jaguar (美洲虎), a species that ranged across Arizona and Sonora, Mexico, until construction of the border wall blocked the way. Finally, there was an update on Mexican wolf reintroduction efforts in New Mexico and Arizona. The results were mixed: Nine of the wolves had died or been killed recently.

As I sat in my car, listening to the news, I felt helpless, even mournful. What would it take for most of us to understand that the javelinas’ behavior on that heavily irrigated golf course in the desert was a sign that maybe the course shouldn’t be in the desert to begin with? The way I saw it, the javelinas weren’t invading (入侵) the site; they were reclaiming it. After all, the javelinas’ needs—for food and space—are more basic than a few privileged humans’ desire to play golf.

As for the Arizona Mexican wolf pup reintroduction effort that I heard about in the news, for the past 25 years, scientists have been working hard to restore the native wolf population, and yet are unable to remove its greatest threat. Today, almost 250 Mexican wolves are believed to be in the wild, and every year, humans illegally kill one out of ten. The wolf recovery effort is necessary, but it’s extremely difficult because we humans keep getting in the way.

I need to tackle my helplessness, because helplessness leads to no longer wanting to take care of what matters most. Therefore, I think that it must be a good sign that my local news now regularly covers the challenges of coexistence and possible solutions to our problems. That’s progress and fuels my hope.