I've raised the issue, and a few eyebrows and hackles as well, partly in hopes of catching some new or aspiring scientists before they give away too much in training and end up cold blooded without knowing it. It's been happening too much lately. If you know someone in that situation please ask them to look around more; there are plenty of excellent role models out there that prove how productive and professional a warm blooded scientist can be, in spite of the system. Against the odds CSI has come upon a most remarkable cadre of young scientists in Latin America, where a whole generation truly cares, made of people who will have a significant impact on the future of cetology and the environment.
Two recent examples closer to home prompt this note. As I was recently sucked into the Pentagon for a dialogue with people who may not get enough training in listening I was accompanied by Dr. Stormy Mayo, right whale expert, behaviorist, Senior Scientist at the Center for Coastal Studies, friend of mine, CSI's, and certainly the whales. Stormy is a major participant in the full spectrum of official responses to the plight of the right whale, and many other issues. He is an intense, impassioned, impressive environmentalist, well respected for his scientific work by his peers and many others. On this day Stormy crammed his busy life even more to get directly involved with the LFA. He really cares. And that's why he always has made a difference.
Another example is Dr. Chris Clark, Director of the Bioacoustics Research Program at Cornell. Chris' expertise brings him up against all the acoustic pollution we flood the oceans with. As well as anyone he understands the impact of our noise on the organisms that live there, and on whole environments. Chris also cares, and at a recent American Cetacean Society conference he surprised many of us with one of the ways he expresses his concern; he is a gifted poet. With his permission we are pleased to share with you:
when I sing in the window of the world's leftover light with the mantle's thunderstorms rumbling through the quilted sea left alone to metronome my music within this blue deep night full chorused distant voices echo back to me where once our songs spired to the edges of the tide now crowds of slow-burn giants without tempo grind those who left to breathe their wisdom for prosperity's ride prey to false enchantments of material and mind old scars of death's survival lanced in black and white now carbon-spined kinetics etch earth's primordial skin their constant motions bring these oceans to the edge of life I roam ancestral havens hear the probing drones know the reasons and muse are they worth believing in? (refrain) God knows they knew it There's no way to prove it, besides Once you've been through it You can't hear the other side It's only a matter of time Before someone else will decide It's not which one's better But who gets the most from the lies CWC-9/26/96
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