When you look at my professional resumé, hobbies, and/or opinions, it’s easy to see that I love nature. I was the kid that taught other neighborhood kids how to climb trees, I made terrariums for toads and frogs, and collected rocks. I’ve always loved camping, listening to bull frogs croak at night, and I’m easily consumed by nature documentaries.
However, when I was trying to decide what my college major should be, I went into a panic (I wasn’t interested in becoming a doctor, accountant, or engineer – which were apparently the only options I was aware of); then my Dad chimed in. My Dad reminded me that nature was the only thing I had consistently cared about, so maybe I should consider something to do with the environment.
I have since earned two ecologically-focused, biology degrees and I’m a peer-reviewed, published scientist with 5 years of environmental consultant experience focused on Endangered Species Act compliance for energy, transportation, and land development industries. But I’m not sharing this information to brag about my life-long love of the outdoors, academic achievements, or professional accolades; instead, I’m sharing this information to set the stage that on paper (and in most aspects of my life) I appear to be a full-fledged environmentalist, tree hugging, hippie. But when I share another side of my personality, most people are shocked to learn that I also absolutely love monster trucks, loud motorcycles, and heavy metal music.
The idea that an environmental advocate might also enjoy insanely inefficient motorsports as unnecessary as monster trucks is baffling to most people, myself included. But this inconsistency, the idea of having the capacity to hold space for opposing ideas, feelings, or concepts is what I think makes us human.
When you learn that as a child, I would fall asleep on the bleachers at Saturday Night dirt track races, my Uncle (who my Mom and I lived with) used to paint model cars in the dining room, and when this same Uncle would announce races, demolition derbies, or motocross competitions, I would dance and sing into his microphone while it was switched off between events. With this additional information, the nature-loving wild child who loves monster trucks and motorcycles all of a sudden makes a little more sense.
For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why people were so surprised by my hobbies because for me, it wasn’t an abnormal pairing, it was simply my life experience. The part of me that deeply loves the environment isn’t outcompeted by the side of me that loves lifted trucks and fast cars; instead I believe that my love for environmentally-unfriendly activities is part of what drives my desire to protect and conserve nature. I want future generations to feel the adrenaline of driving through forested mudding trails, jumping out of airplanes, and scuba diving in the ocean. And I think this exact concept, the ability to hold two conflicting or seemingly opposing points of view at the same time, is what it means to be human. We can love someone to their core but also be disappointed or disgusted by their actions. We can believe deeply in a religion or spiritual identity while also being a data driven scientist. As humans, we are not simple, logical frameworks; we are confusing and complex, often doing or thinking things that are inefficient, ineffective, and/or nonsensical.