When I learned about endangered species and extinction in elementary school, lessons focused on fairly exotic extinct creatures like the Dodo bird and the Tasmanian Tiger. We talked about the once-common Passenger Pigeon, or how the American Bison was nearly hunted to extinction.
Like many kids, I was a dinosaur fanatic. I pored through my favorite dinosaur book Life Before Man (pictured top center) for hours, despite it having toxic-smelling paper fumes that made me feel nauseous. From that book, I learned about how the Moa survived on an island until the 1500’s, when it was hunted to extinction. It seemed like such a shame that a 12-foot-tall prehistoric bird nearly survived long enough, in relative terms, for us to actually see it live.
Still, the threat of extinction seemed rather limited to a small set of creatures when I was a child. I wanted to protect them all myself, but I thought surely people were taking care of the situation. I was just a kid, but people had written all these books. Perhaps it was too late to see the skies blackened by passenger pigeons, but no one would let elephants or gorillas go extinct, knowing what we know now, right?
Well, thirty years later, the list of critically endangered species is alarmingly extensive. Every day, creatures are added to the list that I never would have dreamed would be threatened when I was a kid. Species that I could have seen, including the Chinese River Dolphin (Baiji) and the Wester Black Rhinoceros have gone extinct due to direct human activity.
Not long ago, I found the website for the Lost Ladybug Project. Quoting from their home page, "Over the past twenty years several native ladybugs that were once very common have become extremely rare." The last twenty years! Not far away exotic creatures, but insects I grew up with in my own back yard! When you’re a kid, about two-and-a-half feet tall, you are acutely aware of the critters running around in your yard. Lady bugs, aphids on leaves, praying mantises, millipedes… I’ve spent time in recent years in my parent’s back yard in Connecticut, getting down on the ground, wondering if things these days are a lot different ecologically than when I was a kid. I’ve felt that things ARE so very different. I used to catch toads on a daily basis where I now see none. The dreaded White-faced Hornet of my childhood is a rare site these days. Summer choruses of Katydids seem never in session.
The Lost Ladybug Project struck me as proof of my observations. I feel there is very little I can do to personally intervene, but this site seems like a good start. They are asking our help to collect and identify lady bugs. Their Kid’s Page is under construction, but it seems perfect to get children interested in conservation. When I was a kid, it seemed like something up to other people to do. Now, it’s more apparent than ever that every one of us must play a part, starting with the very insects in your back yard. Will future generations have only a few oddballs like me who care about things like this, or will everybody care?
The Lost Ladybug Project
When I learned about endangered species and extinction in elementary school, lessons focused on fairly exotic extinct creatures like the Dodo bird and the Tasmanian Tiger. We talked about the once-common Passenger Pigeon, or how the American Bison was nearly hunted to extinction.
Like many kids, I was a dinosaur fanatic. I pored through my favorite dinosaur book Life Before Man (pictured top center) for hours, despite it having toxic-smelling paper fumes that made me feel nauseous. From that book, I learned about how the Moa survived on an island until the 1500’s, when it was hunted to extinction. It seemed like such a shame that a 12-foot-tall prehistoric bird nearly survived long enough, in relative terms, for us to actually see it live.
Still, the threat of extinction seemed rather limited to a small set of creatures when I was a child. I wanted to protect them all myself, but I thought surely people were taking care of the situation. I was just a kid, but people had written all these books. Perhaps it was too late to see the skies blackened by passenger pigeons, but no one would let elephants or gorillas go extinct, knowing what we know now, right?
Well, thirty years later, the list of critically endangered species is alarmingly extensive. Every day, creatures are added to the list that I never would have dreamed would be threatened when I was a kid. Species that I could have seen, including the Chinese River Dolphin (Baiji) and the Wester Black Rhinoceros have gone extinct due to direct human activity.
Not long ago, I found the website for the Lost Ladybug Project. Quoting from their home page, "Over the past twenty years several native ladybugs that were once very common have become extremely rare." The last twenty years! Not far away exotic creatures, but insects I grew up with in my own back yard! When you’re a kid, about two-and-a-half feet tall, you are acutely aware of the critters running around in your yard. Lady bugs, aphids on leaves, praying mantises, millipedes… I’ve spent time in recent years in my parent’s back yard in Connecticut, getting down on the ground, wondering if things these days are a lot different ecologically than when I was a kid. I’ve felt that things ARE so very different. I used to catch toads on a daily basis where I now see none. The dreaded White-faced Hornet of my childhood is a rare site these days. Summer choruses of Katydids seem never in session.
The Lost Ladybug Project struck me as proof of my observations. I feel there is very little I can do to personally intervene, but this site seems like a good start. They are asking our help to collect and identify lady bugs. Their Kid’s Page is under construction, but it seems perfect to get children interested in conservation. When I was a kid, it seemed like something up to other people to do. Now, it’s more apparent than ever that every one of us must play a part, starting with the very insects in your back yard. Will future generations have only a few oddballs like me who care about things like this, or will everybody care?