A Revelation in the Field
The setting sun painted the hills around the Navichiste Bay a glowing shade of red as it slowly dipped down over the horizon. The air was warm and dry, and except for the occasional voice coming from the kitchen of our research facility, there was a prolonged silence across the area. I was sitting cross-legged on the worn-down dock, holding my camera close to my chest, attempting to stop the occasional splash of water from soaking the lens.
Our small research team had been documenting the work of the local fishers here in Sinaloa, Mexico, for the entirety of the afternoon. We had been accompanying them to check their fishing lines, helping them collect oysters, and getting a look at the layout of the bay. One of these fishermen, Rodolfo, was a particularly inspiring character with a fondness for the limelight. He was the captain of this crew, and we had been exceptionally curious to hear history. As we sat on this dock watching the sun set over the horizon, we began to bombard Rodolfo with a series of questions. Rodolfo’s story was unique. He was a former poacher turned conservationist. Once one of the most successful killers of sea turtles, he now was actively seeking our help in protecting them.
The expedition was for Blue Turtle Sustainable, a grassroots organization dedicated to finding innovative ways to fund sea turtle conservation. This expedition was meant to document the work of these fishers in Sinaloa and offer a first-hand opportunity to assess the potential to collaborate on Blue Turtle Sustainable’s seafood program. I was a member of the organization, working as a conservation communications specialist and journalist, documenting the expedition for various magazines and research blogs. It was a stark contrast to my experience in conservation, which was primarily characterized by field research and wildlife rehabilitation.
Over the past few years, my work had slowly begun to stray away from research and academia. As an undergraduate, it seemed there were only a few paths in the field of conservation. It feltlike there was a set expectation for life. This lack of opportunity never set well with me. I felt my talents were better suited for communications, outreach, or media. I felt trapped in a field that no longer allowed me the freedom I craved.
In a moment of revelation, I began to carve a new path in the field. I started to view conservation in a broader context and found ways to bridge the gap between science and communications. During this moment of revelation, I was offered the chance to work with Blue Turtle Sustainable in La Paz, Mexico. It was an easy decision. And four months later, I was sitting on a dock, having a life-altering experience on the coastline of mainland Mexico.
New Ideas in Conservation
Let’s take a step back from my story for a second. We will get back to it, don’t worry. What I want to focus on is what is happening in this article? The narrative we are crafting is focused on connecting you to my personal story, much like the focus of my article was connecting the audience with Rodolfo’s story. This relationship that we are building is meant to draw your investment into the story. Therefore, you become attached to my personal story and likely become interested in conservation. This tactic is something we like to call “conservation storytelling.”
What does that mean, though? Well, the idea is simple, but the actual process is more complicated.
Conservation storytelling uses storytelling elements and prose to convey information about a particular issue or conflict in conservation. Instead of writing about the research or the outcome of the study, conservation storytelling focuses on connecting the audience to the issue using characters, thematic elements, or an enticing storyline. It involves character development, imagery, and personification.
This practice is a relatively new idea in the field of conservation. Until recently, conservation failed to acknowledge the power in communications and produced objective and research-driven narratives from the field. This failure to recognize the need to communicate science made the field very niche, limiting the work and progress of conservation research.
As the media landscape begins to evolve, many conservationists and science communicators are starting to respect the power of storytelling. This art form is one of humanity’s oldest tools for communication. Stories have been the backbone of human culture for thousands of years. We have used them to spread news, communicate information, express our individualities, and connect with other people and cultures. Likewise, as conservationists, our ability to inspire change and enact solutions depends on our ability to communicate the issue.
The Storytelling Model
So, how do we do this? How do we communicate conservation through a story? Well, let’s use a metaphor to break things down a bit more.
- Phase I – First Steps
Think about climbing a mountain. And if you have absolutely no desire to climb a mountain, bear with me for a minute. When you first decide to climb a mountain, it’s because you were given a reason to want to climb the mountain. For some people, that can be as simple as “because it’s there.” For others, it’s a more complicated reason that often takes an act of inspiration or the establishment of a personal connection with the pursuit.
This tactic is what I like to call the “WHY” phase of the story. Similar to summiting a mountain, getting involved in a conservation issue is not an easy task. As communicators, it is our job to give people the inspiration to get involved and give them the “why.” Provide the audience with a reason to take those crucial first steps. Inspire them.
- Phase II - The Climb
Once the reader is inspired to act, we can then enter the next phase of the story. Again, if we go back to our example of climbing a mountain, this part marks the middle of the climb. Our readers are inspired, prepared, and now they are making the trek up the mountain one step at a time.
This section of the story involves diving deeper into the issue. Keep providing the reader with reasons they need to be involved in the conflict. Continue reinforcing the connection to the characters in the story and justify the reader’s reasons to keep going. This is where we can begin to sprinkle in facts and anecdotes that will strengthen the overall narrative.
- Phase III – The Crux
After the climb, we enter a smaller section of the story called “The Crux.” The crux is a term that derives from mountaineering that signifies the most challenging part of a climb. For example, the “Crux” on Mt. Everest is the Hillary Step, a small section of the climb that involves nearly 40 feet of technical bouldering. (Note – Hillary Step collapsed in 2017).
In the “crux,” our readers will need to be pushed to continue reading. This section is where webring in the statistics and data. It’s where we provide the story with in-depth research that highlights the extent of the issue. This part of the narrative involves a lot of numbers and figures. It can also be the part of the story where we give an in-depth explanation of the issue. It’s where we break it down into more manageable terms that are easily understandable for anyone outside of the study. In this section, we are giving the reader the technical knowledge to understand the ramifications of the problem.
- Phase IV – The Final Push
Now, we have made it through the “crux.” We are sitting on the side of the route, eating a Cliff Bar (not a sponsored ad lol), and preparing for the final section of the climb, or the “Final Push.”
This section is where we must reinforce the call to action within the reader. We also need to give the audience tangible actions, possible solutions, and the belief that the issue is possible to overcome. This is why this section is called “hope.” In the metaphor, this is the part where we see the peak, which gives us hope, and we begin to tell ourselves about the actions we can take to get to the top.
These four sections are a general model for crafting a conservation story. Much like any other artistic pursuit, there isn’t one single “right” way. The only thing that matters is the connection that is created with the audience. As conservationists, if we can get the audience to feel personally connected with an issue, we have made an impact.
Telling a story is a damn good place to start.
Back to That Spring Evening on the Coast of Sinaloa.
As I sit on the dock listening to Rodolfo recount his life story to our small team of researchers, I begin to think about the moments that led me to this conversation. I was always invested in conservation, but the people were the ones that pushed me to take the next step. The passion, determination, and stories of individuals involved in the field caused me to act. And now here, at the end of a long day on the ocean, I was connecting with someone on a personal level in a way that made the issue much more human.
We spent the next week interacting with a few different fishers from Sinaloa. We spent days in the sun tagging sea turtles, collecting nets, and documenting their practice. Some of the fishermen invited us to participate in their operation, and even cooked us dinner. It was an eye-opening expedition. It made me realize that conservation was so much more than just research and science. It involved people, their families, and their livelihoods. These weren’t just ecological issues; they were human issues.
That week in Sinaloa gave me a reason to act. The stories of those community leaders made me feel personally connected to the problems of poaching, overfishing, and bycatch. The characters provided me with inspiration and hope. They gave me a reason to act.
Sea-turtle conservation may have been my mountain, but the stories behind the issue gave me a reason to climb it.
Keegan Sentner,
Freelance Journalist - Writer - Conservationist.
