This morning, my brothers and I toured through the National Aquarium in Baltimore, amongst hoards and hoards of people. I was brought there by nostalgia, and left feeling a little bit underwhelmed. It was the first time I had been in probably five years. In those five years, I have learned to scuba dive, and have explored the incredible ocean firsthand, from the Great Barrier Reef to the Galapagos to Honduras.
"It's sad that this is how most people see the ocean," said Aaron. I replied, "Yeah, but it's better than nothing." Moments later, a four or five-year-old ran toward a tank with some fish, yelling "Mira los peces! Mira los peces!" ("Look at the fish!")
While the tanks pale in comparison to the real, vast, abundant ocean, Aaron and I reminded ourselves that we fell in love with the ocean way before we learned to snorkel or dive. In fact, the National Aquarium first introduced each of us to our first favorite marine creatures: mine, the dolphin, and Aaron's, the sea turtle. For a long stretch of my childhood, I was obsessed with dolphins, and was convinced that I would either become a dolphin trainer or a marine biologist. That sense of wonder and love toward the marine world has brought Aaron a Marine Affairs major and interest in fisheries management, and myself a passion for environmentalism.
Monterey Aquarium
Wonder. It's the spark we all need, that slowly develops into passion. Passion that we need to start following more often than ignoring. Children view the earth with wonder; we just need to remind ourselves not to numb ourselves to it as we age. Because that wonder inevitably turns into a desire to care for the earth. Once we can stare with amazement at the spectacular work of geologic forces or evolution, we gain respect and love. Once we realize, awestruck, how flawlessly nature functions, we gain respect and love. Once we respect the earth, we let it govern us, rather than the other way around. And then, thousands upon thousands of problems will be solved.
That's why, when I hear about legislation aiming to develop America's wildernesses and close state parks in the name of "economic necessity," I'm a bit taken aback. Because fostering wonder might in fact be one of the very best things we can do for our country - and that includes the economy. Because we can only improve a country that we actually love.
