Subscribe to the Queen of Green digest
Their stories are inspiring.
They value nature and feel responsible for protecting the Earth for future generations.
They live in small towns and big cities, near forests and oceans and across great prairies.
They drop their kids off at school, work regular jobs and do their best to balance hockey practices, deadlines and compost piles.
Most are folks like you and me, who know we could do more, could do better, if only the system would shift.
As a tot, I bounced around in a backpack on my father's shoulders while he hunted for our food. We picked berries from bushes and fished from lakes. He hunted with a friend — rarely alone — and always shared the bounty with our community. When an animal gave its life to sustain ours, he offered thanks. Nothing was wasted.
Our place in community and in nature was defining, unquestionable and beautiful.
In those days, the global population was approximately 4.5 billion. Today there are more than seven billion people sharing this planet. We can't all forage for fish and berries in small towns.
But we can and we must choose to live with the same reverence for nature — the same understanding of interdependence — that I'm so grateful to have received. That can't only happen on an individual level. We need a community of shared environmental values and a system that supports them.
A playmate's parent recently chastised my five-year-old daughter's explanation of where meat comes from. The other parent thought "from the supermarket" sufficed.
Of course, it doesn't. It completely misses the point.
But it represents a systemic challenge — one you call into question when you stand up and become a radically Canadian monthly donor with the David Suzuki Foundation.
For all the non-toxic pedicures and DIY household cleaners that we commit to, our fundamental well-being depends on our connection to each other and to the Earth.
Don't think you're radically Canadian? Think again!