a home destroyed
i was seven years old when i saw the ocean for the first time. my grandmother had invited me to visit her near okinawa, japan. i will never forget that encounter—the intense sun, the endless horizon, the infinite shades of blue that dissolved any boundary between sky and waves. and most of all, the secret of the water. swimming in those waters was like diving into a kaleidoscope, deceptively plain on the outside, but a show of colors on the inside, waiting to dazzle me, mesmerize me. those colors! coral reefs—pink, green, red, purple—covered the seafloor; streaks of sunlight illuminated them, the swaying water creating a dance of hues. and weaving in and out of the contours of coral swam brilliant fish that synchronized every movement with the water, creating one body, one living entity. i longed to join and flow with them to the music of the waves; that’s where i felt i belonged. and leaving was like parting home, not going home.
five years later, i returned. at first, all seemed to match my memory: the crystalline waters and that open horizon with the sun daring to come closer to earth. but the second i dove in, i knew my home had vanished…white. that’s all i could see around me: bone-white death. i couldn’t accept it. i kept swimming farther out, hoping to catch even the smallest hint of color. but there was no sign of that brilliant garden i remembered, just fragments of bleached coral. it was like looking down onto the aftermath of a war: a bombed city, with only the crumbles of cement to testify for the great buildings that once stood. but who was the culprit behind this egregious attack?
though at the age of twelve, i couldn’t even begin to guess, i now know the answer is us. humans are an impressive species: we have traveled to every continent, adapted to countless environments, and innovated to create comfortable means of living. but in the process, we have stolen the colors from nature all around the globe, just as we did that coral reef. our trail of white has penetrated the forests, the oceans, the grasslands, and spread like a wild disease. i, too, have left a white footprint, so i have a responsibility to right these wrongs, to repaint those colors, and to preserve the ones that remain. some question why i should care. the answer is simple: this planet is my home, my birthplace. and that, in and of itself, is an inseparable bond and a timeless connection. nature has allowed me my life, so i have no right to deny its life. as jane goodall once said, “if we kill off the wild, then we are killing a part of our souls.” this is my soul—our soul. i know that i alone cannot protect this soul, so i will not make a promise that i cannot fulfill. but this promise i will make: i will do what i can do.
