Conservation [kän(t)-sər-vā-shən] - NOUN

1. a careful preservation and protection of something; especially: planned management of a natural resource to prevent exploitation, destruction, or neglect

This is the definition of conservation according to Merriam Webster. It seems straightforward enough, but I think that, when asked what comes to mind when they think of conservation, people would give a wide array of responses. When words are as ubiquitous as this, one hardly ever stops to really think about what it means to them.

If you asked your grandparents, they might tell you about the likes of John Muir, Gifford Pinchot and Aldo Leopold, and the establishment of the National Parks Service. For others, old-growth trees encircled by activists, or redwoods with their protectors perched high in the branches come to mind. Many will recall the passage of the Endangered Species Act, or the formation of the Environmental Protection Agency. For an inhabitant of a small mill town, it might conjure up the fear of a lost job.

If someone had asked me just a few months ago, my response might have been a grab-bag of elements from all of the above—indecisively drawing from the ideals, imagery and paradigms of many generations, demographics and philosophies.

Two months ago, I walked into Oregon Wild’s Portland office for the first day of my summer conservation internship, bright-eyed and eager to see what adventures the summer held for me. Though there was a brief job description on the website, I wasn’t exactly sure what my “Wildlife and Wildlands Conservation Internship” would entail.

Despite my apprehension, illusions of grandeur prevailed-- I was pretty sure it would have something to do with going head to head with evil industry executives, and single-handedly saving Oregon’s wilderness—one tree, wetland and wolf at a time. I pictured myself, field kit in hand, trekking off into the backcountry to become a contemporary Rachel Carson or Jane Goodall, my childhood hero; I would surely save an endangered place or creature. I would hold an everlasting place in the annals of environmental history; I was to be revered by generations of conservationists to come.

Now, perhaps that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it paints a fairly accurate picture of how uncertain I was of what an internship, or career for that matter, in conservation really meant. Although I’ve only been here a short time, I’ve gained some valuable insights into what it takes to protect what we love.

Of particular importance to me has been the realization that there are many means to the end of conservation. Butting heads with the aforementioned industry executives (who I’ve come to realize are not all as evil as they can be cracked up to be) and following in the footsteps of Aldo, Gifford and Rachel certainly achieve what we generally understand to be conservation. Blazing trails in conservation is all well and good, but there’s a world of difference that can be made by the small actions of citizens like you and me.

A day in the life of a conservation intern like myself is filled with those small actions. At first, it was easy for them to get lost in the sea that is all that Oregon Wild does. I often found myself thinking that the things I was tasked with—looking up facts to help my boss write an op-ed, drafting e-alerts, writing sample action letters to the governor, making a website for Oregon’s wildlife—weren’t going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

In reality, that op-ed in the Oregonian reached a huge number of Oregonians, that e-alert reaches thousands of concerned citizens, that wildlife website educates the public about species that really do need our help, that letter to the governor will fill his inbox by the thousands, certainly sending a strong message.

The same goes for the actions of individual citizens, like you, one of our loyal supporters. One dentist, auto-mechanic or real estate agent sending a hand written note to their legislator or writing a letter to the editor is an important part of conservation, just as the work of Oregon Wild or the environmental science researchers at OSU or University of Oregon are.

At the end of this experience, I think what I’ll have come away with is this: conservation is not any one thing, but rather an interconnected web of actions that people are taking to protect the places and things they love. That’s why it’s called the conservation community—nothing that any one of us does would be possible without the other members.

Oregon Wild would never have gone anywhere without our supporters—people like you have to care about what we’re doing. Governors, representatives and senators wouldn’t bother making changes in legislation if phone calls, letters and emails didn’t inform them of the things their constituency cares about. Researchers do what they do because they know their findings are useful to people, like us here at Oregon Wild. And even my e-alerts, Facebook updates and wildlife website will make a humble dent in the massive effort that is conservation.

Being part of the Oregon Wild team, and of the conservation movement, has been an eye opening experience to say the least, and while I’ve since realized that I may never become the next Rachel Carson or Jane Goodall (remember my name though, just in case), I feel really good about what I’ve done here this summer, and what I have yet to do. What I’ve learned will stay with me for the rest of my life; you don’t have to be a household name to change the world and protect what you love. Conservation is everyone that cares even a little bit about keeping our world a beautiful place to live, and everything that they do to make that happen.